


Perfect strangers

by zation



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Alternate Universe - inspired by Outlander the TV-show, Anal Fingering, Bisexual Dean, Biting, Cas is not our Cas and not an angel, Dean being a dumbass, Dean is a Little Shit, Dean is a little minx hehe, Denial Dean, First Kisses, First Time, First Time Blow Jobs, Hand Jobs, Horseback Riding, Hunter Dean, Hunting Together, M/M, Marking, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, POV switch, Prompt Fic, Some Humor, Some angst, Some pining, Straight Cas, Top Castiel/Bottom Dean Winchester, Topping from the Bottom, because FEELINGS yo, confused cas, human cas, it's the middle ages y'all!, maybe..., medieval setting, mostly about Dean's actions lmao, poor substitute for lube, public-ish bath sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-18
Updated: 2019-06-06
Packaged: 2020-01-16 02:08:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 47,890
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18511750
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zation/pseuds/zation
Summary: Original prompt:So Dean would still be a hunter but he wouldn’t know Cas yet. Maybe during a hunt one night he comes across these stones, hears the buzzing sound, touches them and is transported back in time. After some wandering about in the wilderness he comes across a group of men being attacked by a vampire, only they dont know thats what he or she is so Dean picks up a discarded sword and chops their head off right before they bite Cas (who is not an angel). Impressed the men bring Dean back to their castle where it turns out that Cas is the only son of the King or Laird and he makes Dean Cas' bodyguard as a thanks for saving himOr,The one where Dean touches some stuff he’s not supposed to touch and gets cursed. But really, what’s new about that?





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> And we’re back! :D
> 
> Okay, so there is much more to this prompt as I have had the great privilege to converse with the prompter (love you, sweetie!) but I don’t want to reveal too much in the summary haha! Also, I might have strayed a bit from it, I hope you can forgive the changes I made XD  
> One thing to know is that it’s kinda inspired by the TV-show Outlander (in that Dean touches some magical stones lol) but it bares very little actual resemblance to it. I did tag for it because of the similarities, though, mainly because the idea _did_ spring from that show :D
> 
> Also, attentive readers (and Dungeons&Dragons fans) will notice not only the references Dean remark on but story references to the D&D campaign Curse of Strahd XD
> 
> And as always, a huge thanks to my faithful beta, BeeCas! No words suffice but you can read my mind at the point so you already know how much I love you <333
> 
> Now, let’s have fun with Dean playing with swords, both the regular metal kind and otherwise ;)

 

 

_Castiel straightens, brushing twigs and leafs off his knees. Somehow he’s in a forest? Last he remembers he was in his bedroom. Or was he? He turns sharply at a weird sound and gets hit in the face when a monster jumps out at him. An actual monster, just like in the books he used to read when he was little. He doesn’t get a chance to scream, though. The monster hovers over him, fangs bared and foul breath washing over his face, threatening to make him gag. And then there’s a whistling sound and in the next moment an arrow has lodged itself in the monster’s head and it topples to the side. Castiel scrambles to his feet and is met with the sight of a knight riding over to him. A knight? How strange, just like in that fairy tale Castiel read his niece before tucking her in. The knight jumps off his horse._

_Castiel shivers from head to toe, drenched from the rain but glad to finally be inside the cabin. What cabin? He doesn’t know, he’s never lived in a cabin before. But there are lots of hunting cabins on the way between Father’s castle and Castiel’s cousin’s mansion. Oh. He supposes he_ has _stayed the night in a cabin before. Maybe that’s where he is? In one of the hunting cabins? Suddenly there’s a presence behind him and he turns sharply, met with a wicked grin, white teeth glinting and striking eyes pinning him down. The man is handsome, devilishly so. Castiel has never thought about a man’s looks before, except the jester that came with the performers on last year’s harvest festival. Or that stable boy, what happened to him? The man walks into the cabin, shuts the door behind his back and opens his mouth to speak. Castiel shivers again, but not from the cold this time._

 _Warm hands rove his body and Castiel arches into the touch. He wants to get closer, somehow, but the man is pinning him down, smirking at Castiel’s needy whine. But Gods save him, the man looks so sinfully enticing as he rises on his knees above Castiel that there’s nothing to do but marvel at the sight. Castiel’s flesh is hot and hard and he has to bite his lip against a groan when he notices that the man is in a similar state. How many times has Castiel seen a naked man? Many, Father’s castle offers a public bath for the castle inhabitants and Castiel isn’t supposed to bath with the commoners but he isn’t forbidden. But never, never has he seen a man like this one. So imposing, so capable, so charming. The man moans under him and Castiel doesn’t even know when they changed positions but he is inside the man. He’s driving into him and the man’s cockiness has yielded to his needs and wants. Something only_ Castiel _can fulfill,_ Castiel’s _name tumbling from the man’s lips,_ Castiel’s _cock hard in his—_

 

 

Castiel woke up with a start, eyes flashing open in the dead of night. His body was hot and sweaty, his dick hard, and no wonder with a dream like that. He furrowed his brow in concern when he recalled it, though. Because that had been a _man_ and not a woman he had fucked. How strange, never had his thoughts strayed like that before. He turned his head on his pillow, steadfastly ignoring the ache between his legs.

It all probably had to do with how the court ladies had been talking about marrying a great knight in shining armor. Castiel had come yesterday to visit his cousin Robert but had ended up spending much time with Robert’s wife and her exotic ladies-in-waiting as Robert had been detained with news of attacks on the road. One of the ladies had managed to procure a book with pictures of knights and princesses and Castiel had found himself drawn to the pretty colors. Supposedly his dreams had wandered because of that.

And thinking about it, he barely remembered his dreams now anyway. Something about a monster attack and a man saving him, and he guessed his dreams had translated the excitement from the attack into sex or something. Castiel wasn’t very well-versed in sex but what little experience he had made him draw this conclusion.

What a strange dream, though. Why would he need help defending himself and why would he sleep with the person who saved him? With that logic he would end up in bed with Captain Rutherford, the captain of the escort that had seen him to Robert’s mansion and no, what a horrible thought…

If Castiel was to sleep with a man it wouldn’t be with someone that grizzled.

He frowned deeply. “I’m a man,” he mumbled to the quiet room. “Why would I sleep with _any_ man?”

The room gave him no answer and the one he received from his dick was defiantly disregarded. Castiel didn’t _need_ a man, in any regard. What a preposterous notion.

 

 

* * *

 

Dean leaned on the shovel as he waited for the call to connect, sweaty and dirty and tired as fuck. He was out in Bumfuck Oregon, deep in some woods he hadn’t bothered to learn the name of, digging up a grave of an unknown person. Life as a hunter sure was sweet sometimes…

“Dean? Are you okay?”

“Sure, always am Sammy,” Dean grinned, breath fogging as he spoke. Damn his voice sounded loud in the dead of night now that the insistent ghost was gone. “You?”

“We’re good,” Sam answered, tone of voice a sure sign that Dean’s little brother was smiling. “She was mad, though, almost broke through the salt circle. Did she attack you too?”

As most ghosts tended to do. “Nah,” he looked down at the still sizzling corpse. “She was just kinda chanting stuff. Something about going away, about danger. Guess she _really_ didn’t want me to torch her ass.”

“Well, as long as it’s done with.”

Dean grinned, lifting his head to look at the full moon that illuminated his crime scene. “So, whatcha doin’ with Erin right now?”

Erin was the third and last member of the group that had had the unfortunate luck to disturb this grave last week. They were university students fresh from the Institute of Technology, which Dean really had thought would make them geeks enough to keep them out of trekking through the woods but no. Apparently there was some legend about something supernatural out here that had enticed them and they had come here with their fancy equipment, intent on every kind of tech reading there was, only to end up sorely disappointed and with a ghost trailing after them.

“The rocks,” Davey, the leader, had told Dean and Sam when they arrived in town three day ago. “They are said to hold meaning to spiritualists.”

“Like, Native American shamans?” Sam had asked and earned himself scowls all around.

“No,” Erin had answered, her tone sweeter than Dean had expected. Well, she did look at Sam with big doe-eyes too so maybe that was it. “Like psychics and soothsayers. We don’t particularly believe in that but the locals have told us that the rocks vibrate sometimes, as if they’re calling you to them.”

“And people have gone missing before,” Davey had interjected eagerly but he immediately got a clouded look. “So we wanted to come see for ourselves, and now Jamie is dead.”

Davey died the day after, Dean and Sam failing to protect him but his death helping them confirm that it was a ghost they were dealing with. Somehow, someone long ago had died by those rocks and someone had buried them in an unmarked grave. Took some digging but Dean found the body and now at least Sammy’s fangirl Erin would live to see another day.

“Lay off it, Dean,” Sam muttered but his tone was still light. “She just had a ghost trying to kill her.”

“Okay, you know what?” he jerked the shovel free. “I got some digging to do to restore this grave and then I’m gonna head back to the motel, you should reap the spoils this time.”

“Reap the— _Dean_ ,” Sam balked reproachfully but Dean could only grin because damn, that Erin had been hot and Sam deserved a little something. Knowing his brother the two would end up talking the whole night, though…

“Seriously, Sammy. Enjoy her company anyway you like, just don’t do it at the motel because I need my beauty sleep, ‘kay?”

Sam huffed and puffed a while longer but eventually agreed. Dean was still grinning even after they had hung up and his mirth buoyed him through restoring the grave. Barring Davey’s death, this had been a pretty good hunt. Nothing fancy, just him and Sammy saving Erin and hunting a ghost, he liked that. Would probably have liked it even better if _he_ had been the one with Erin right now but he supposed he couldn’t win every time.

Thinking about it, that dude at the gas station a couple of miles back had seemed pretty fine. Had definitely been checking out Dean too, maybe he should go back and see if the guy was actually interested. Dean didn’t get with guys a whole lot, just a quick fuck to satisfy needs, but he knew that he liked it well enough. Guys weren’t soft like women, but more… _raw_ , for the lack of a better word. And he enjoyed that too but wouldn’t want to go long term with just that. Maybe if he had found a dude who was both soft as a woman and raw as a man he would consider it but really, with their lifestyle it wasn’t like he concerned himself with such thoughts either way.

Man or woman, as long as the flesh was willing so was Dean, for a night or two.

He paused his work to straighten his back, wiping sweat off his forehead. The air was definitely chilly but this shit was hard work. The end result didn’t look as nice as in a graveyard and honestly he didn’t really care, considering no one would come and see this anyway. All he cared about was burying the burnt husk well enough that no animal got to it. The ashes needed to rest, so to speak.

“Time to close up shop,” he muttered and started packing his stuff in the small duffle bag he had brought. Weapons, lighter, salt, gas, and apparently a skin mag because Dean hadn’t bothered to look which bag he grabbed. He grinned to himself, fingering the magazine but thought better of it.

Maybe he could score with that gas station dude after all, or maybe he would end up with his hand and a long shower but either way he wasn’t whacking it in the middle of the woods next to a grave.

“We still have _some_ standards, don’t we mini-Dean?”

He had just zipped closed the duffle bag when he heard a strange humming sound. Frowning, he stood and cocked his head to the side, listening. It almost sounded like the vibration of a phone but a quick look revealed that he had no incoming texts or calls.

He sighed, loudly and aggressively because fuck, he was so _done_ for the night. The ghost was dead and Sammy had the girl, what more did the world want from him? The moonlight shone brightly down on him, bathing the forest in an eerie glow but fuck if Dean let that bother him. In fact he liked it because he had left the flashlight in the duffle bag and would have been blind without the moon.

Five minutes later Dean had figured out that the humming definitely stemmed from the formation of rocks that was situated a handful of feet from the grave. The very rocks Erin and her friends had come to investigate, Dean suspected.

They were large, like the rocks that fat dude Obelix used to haul around in that foreign comic dad had bought them once. They stood in a circle, kind of, towering over Dean when he stepped in between. Kind of like a mini Stonehenge, he thought with a raised eyebrow.

“No wonder,” he mumbled and stepped closer to one of the rocks. No wonder people thought these rocks held spiritual meaning and that scientists wanted to investigate them. Whoever put them here, probably centuries ago, had done a great job of making them look mysterious.

If only he could figure out what the humming was about.

It kind of sounded like it came from inside one of the rocks and it grew louder as he moved closer. He paused in front of the rock, pursing his lips in thought. On the one hand he supposed it didn’t matter since the hunt was over, but on the other it was really fucking weird that a rock in the middle of fucking nowhere started humming like an aggressive vibrator.

When he put his hand on the rock in front of him the humming intensified at least ten times and fuck, the rock _was_ actually vibrating. It sure as hell looked and felt like rock but now Dean was starting to doubt it actually was one.

“ _That’s_ why it’s making that noi—”

A jolt went through Dean’s arm, as if something had electrified him, and the world went black.

 

*********

 

When he woke up he was lying on his back in the circle of rocks. It was still dark outside and a quick look at his wrist watch revealed that it was still the same date and not much later. Well, he hadn’t exactly checked the time while he was fixing the grave but he thought that maybe he had been out at most like ten minutes.

His muscles confirmed this when he got to his feet a moment later. His head didn’t hurt and his vision didn’t swim. In all honesty it almost felt as if he had decided to just take a quick power nap on the ground in the middle of the forest.

But he hadn’t and he knew that. Eying the rock that had electrocuted him he knew that there was something weird going on here. He snarled at the rock and stomped back to his duffle bag, just so fucking done for tonight.

Really, why had he even started touching the stone? Because of the humming sound? What the fuck did he care?

Except yes he cared if there was something supernatural going on. And Dean wasn’t an old man, his heart was fine, but what if someone with heart problems or something like that got a shock from the rock? He lived just fine but someone might die. Supernatural or not, Dean thought he should probably tell Sammy and maybe figure out what to do about the rocks. At least they were quiet for now.

In fact, the whole forest seemed weirdly quiet… and where the fuck was his duffle bag anyway?

He stomped around where he _knew_ he had left it but no, nothing. Not even a trace left of the grave and come on, he had done a pretty crappy job of restoring it; he _should_ be able to find it. Maybe he had gotten confused when he fainted? Maybe he had come from the other side?

He walked around the circle of rocks but no dice.

“I swear to fucking God, if someone stole my gun…”

For real, if Dean found out there was nothing supernatural about the humming but rather a thief lying in wait with a Taser he would fucking blow up the whole forest. A quick search revealed that he still had his phone, wallet, and keys on and he breathed out a sigh of relief for that saving grace.

He used the flashlight on his phone to find the crooked tree that signaled the way he had come and started walking in the general direction of his beloved Impala. If he found out someone had scratched her there would be hell to pay…

After walking for way longer than he remembered he started to get irritated. The forest was coming alive again but he didn’t care one iota about that. He was just about to give up and call Sammy to complain when he noticed that he didn’t have a signal.

“Oh come on!” he almost — _almost_ — chucked his phone into the darkness because fucking _hell_ , he had _just_ been talking to Sam, how could he be out of bars now?

And not just out of bars, he noticed when he stopped to fiddle with his phone. He had no service _at all_. No Internet, no signal, no service provider in range. He stood there for a moment, eyebrows raised as he stared blankly at the screen. Maybe the shock from the stone had fried the chip in his phone? Would it still work if it had? Because it did work, he could take pictures and stuff, he just couldn’t connect to the world.

Sighing, _hard_ , he pocketed his phone and started walking again. It only took a moment for him to realize he would need the flashlight on his phone to see and he stopped, head hanging in mounting anger. But suddenly _someone_ up there took pity on him and the clouds parted to give way for the moonlight again.

“Silver lining, huh?” he muttered and started walking again, the moonlight enough for him to at least not trip.

It didn’t take him long, but longer than he had thought, until he found a road. Only… it wasn’t the graveled road he had come on. Instead it was packed dirty and trenches on the side, a stretch of grass growing in the middle. He stopped to stare, again with his eyebrows raised. This definitely wasn’t the same road he had come on. Maybe he had confused the sides up at the rock formation and he should go back and walk in the opposite direction?

Then suddenly he heard a loud scream, followed by shouted commands and hurried steps.

Stupid or not, his instincts told him to immediately run to the aid of the person who had screamed. It was the kind of reaction that was good for his human side but bad for his hunter side, charging head-first into unknown fights was never smart but on the other hand it was kind of his thing.

He realized too late that he didn’t have his gun and he stumbled to a halt at the edge of the skirmish. What he saw made him pause maybe even more than the lack of a weapon. Men in what looked like medieval armor, chain mails and swords, clashing against men and a woman in leather, seemingly unarmed but hissing and fighting with inhuman strength.

Vampires, Dean noticed immediately by their teeth and fighting style, but he hesitated because of the clothes. Had he fucking walked onto a movie set? Or was this like Charlie’s larping gang? He didn’t want to interfere but there were bodies on the ground too and the blood looked real. Although he supposed it would on a movie set.

Then suddenly one of the vamps jumped one of the men, his sword fell out of his hand and he screamed in agony as the sharp fangs bit into his neck.

“Jason!” one of the other men roared and started fighting his way over to the man but fuck it, Dean knew he was a goner. These vampires weren’t turning people, no way a potion would help that Jason dude. He was food and would be dead soon. “Lord Castiel, watch out!” the same man yelled and Dean’s eyes drew down to the ground behind Jason.

Well fuck, he had been protecting a prone man, now left completely at the mercy of the vamp’s friend. Dean didn’t even hesitate to move in when he saw the man hastily pick up Jason’s dropped sword to ward off the attack at the last minute. He just jumped into the fray, drop-rolling to pick up an abandoned sword from another dead armored guy.

The man — Lord Castiel, apparently — was making a valiant effort at keeping the vampire’s snapping jaws off him, having managed to get the sword’s flat side against the vamp’s chest to press him away. But the Lord was lying flat on his back, his assailant heaving his whole weight against him and Dean could see it was a losing battle. The man who had yelled before was caught in his own battle, clearly not as strong as a fucking vampire, but he was desperate to make his way over to this Lord guy.

Dean was running fast but he did manage to notice several things. One was that this was no fucking movie set, the people on the ground were stone cold dead. Maybe the people in costume were larping or filming a movie but the vamps were real as fuck. Another thing he noticed that supported that theory was that though he saw badly injured vampires on the ground, none of them were dead. No heads were being chopped off, which definitely told Dean these were civilians fighting for their lives.

The sword was heavy in his hand, much heavier than his preferred machete, and when he reached the Lord he had to grab the sword in both hands to really make the swing count. He used his momentum too, putting his whole body into it and fucking _hell_ , these swords were sharp as fuck.

The head came clean off, no fuss, and it felt like cutting through butter. Fuck there was so much blood, but Dean didn’t even stop to think, he just thrusted out a hand to help the Lord to his feet and then turned to throw himself into the fight again.

“You have to cut off their heads!” he roared over the deafening sound of the fight, blood rushing in his ears and adrenaline pumping through his body. He felt a thrill go through him when he saw the armored men hesitating only a second before redoubling their efforts to obey his command.

Though the men were clearly inexperienced when it came to vamps, they were hardly virgins when it came to melee in general and with Dean to point them in the right direction they made short work of the few remaining attackers.

“Their heads,” the man who had shouted for the Lord and Jason earlier demanded and Dean saw the two other remaining men go about chopping off the heads of the vampires he had seen on the ground when he first arrived at the scene.

Man, Dean’s arms felt like they were made of lead. This sword was insanely heavy. With a grunt he thrusted it into the ground and shook out his arms, only then noticing that the Lord and the guy who was clearly the leader of the soldiers were both looking at him.

“What are these?” the Lord said, his tone eager, but then he stopped to check himself and instead offered up a small smile. “My name is Castiel, youngest son of Lord Star of the Vale. You have my utmost gratitude for assisting us. May I inquire your name, good sir?”

Of the _Vale_ , Lord _Star_ …? Yeah, _clearly_ a bunch of geeks larping…

“Winchester,” Dean said, tone more tired than he had wanted to let on. He brushed his hands against his jacket and then extended the right one for the Castiel dude to shake. “Dean Winchester.”

“What the hell were those things?”

He turned to one of the surviving soldier men, he was limping and his leg was bloodied. “Are you hurt?” Dean’s voice was sharper than he had intended but fuck, if this guy had been bitten they were probably all doomed. _Maybe_ Dean could whip up some antidote _if_ he could find his car. “Did they bite you?”

“Bite?”

“Answer the man, Dill,” the leader snapped and he stepped up to the confused man. “Have you been bitten?”

“N-no,” he bent down to show them the cut on his calf, clearly not from vampire fangs. Dean visibly relaxed. “I was pushed down and cut myself on a sword on the ground.”

“Why would it have mattered?”

Dean turned to Castiel and found the man looking at him with open curiosity. His eyes were very intense, full of honesty and light. Dean was a little taken aback by how stunning Castiel suddenly looked.

“Because these are vampires,” he hurried to say, repressing whatever the fuck that had been about. “You all saw their fangs, right? One bite turns you into them.”

The leader walked over to one of the bodies, handling the severed head as if it didn’t bother him at all, his movements clipped and perfunctory.

“The fangs are gone.”

“Yeah, they do that when the vamp dies,” Dean pulled up the sword he had borrowed and walked over to one of the fallen soldiers. “And I don’t mean any disrespect but you gotta cut off your friends’ heads too.”

“Don’t,” the leader snapped and Dean stopped, poised over one of the fallen bodies, whole stance defiant.

“Captain Rutherford,” Castiel mumbled, going to exchange Jason’s sword with a fancier one that obviously matched the sheet at his hip. “I think it would be the most prudent thing to do. We will honor them in our hearts, their deaths will not go unnoticed.”

The leader — Captain Rutherford — seemed obviously pained by this development but he didn’t hesitate to accept Castiel’s words.

 _“Damn,”_ Dean thought as he went about cutting off the heads with this fucking magically sharp sword. _“Either these are some great larpers or some stone-cold assholes.”_

Seriously, for them to not break character over something like this was as chilling as it was impressive.

“What do you wanna do about the bodies?” Dean was practically sweating in his leather jacket.

Chopping off heads and fighting like this sure was hard work, no matter how sharp the sword’s edge was. He hefted the sword for a moment, starting to like how it fit his hand but stopped himself when he caught Dill and the other soldier looking at him.

“Strip them of their valuables,” Captain Rutherford ordered. “We will bring that to their families.”

“You don’t wanna…” Dean looked around the mass of dead bodies as Dill and his friend went about executing the captain’s orders. “I dunno, bury them?”

“With what shovel, good sir?” the captain asked and Dean was incredibly surprised to find that the man’s tone wasn’t the least condescending. Weird how he had expected that.

“Sorry,” he mumbled. “Just feels weird to leave them like this.”

“I will return in the morning to collect the bodies for proper burial,” the captain answered solemnly. “And with shovels to bury the creatures that attacked us.”

“You should burn them,” Dean offered. “Salt the bodies and then burn them, prevent them from coming back.”

Not that he had known many vampires to come back as vengeful ghosts but there was always a first for everything.

But as soon as the words had left his mouth he regretted them. Why did he keep talking to these role-playing fantasy geeks as if they were potential professional hunters? Or in any way capable of dealing with burning people’s bodies. He supposed he had been pulled in by Captain Rutherford’s demanding presence but it still made no sense.

He turned to Castiel, the seemingly most approachable of the bunch, but was startled when he noticed the man staring openly at him. The man’s handsome face lit up with the smallest of smiles when their eyes met.

“You seem to know a lot about these vampires.”

“Yeah,” Dean should have just shut up from the beginning. Never tell civilians about hunting, that was kind of the golden rule. He supposed he should just run with it now but he got annoyed with himself all the same. “It’s kinda my job. Hunting supernatural things and killing them, if I have to.”

“For real?” the second soldier exclaimed and Dean only then noticed how young the man looked. He hunched down when Captain Rutherford cleared his throat loudly. “I’m sorry, sir,” he mumbled and Dean felt extremely weird being addressed as “sir”. “I was just thinking that it seems like a dangerous job.”

“It is,” Dean shrugged and threw Castiel a cocky grin before he could stop himself. “But someone’s gotta do it, right?”

“Well you certainly saved us, Sir Winchester,” Castiel stated sincerely and there is was again. _Sir_.

“Uh, just Dean is fine.”

“Well then, Sir Dean, would you like to accompany us to my father’s castle? I’m sure he would like to reward you.”

Oh good, getting back to the larping basecamp would make sure Dean got some reception for his phone. He should just call Sam and let him know he would be spending the night with these people and then go back in the morning to find his car and duffle bag. They were so far out he wasn’t particularly worried about anyone stealing them anyway. Hell, if _he_ couldn’t find them in the dark then he was pretty sure no one else could either.

“Sure, sounds like a good idea.”

He jerked in surprise when Dill lit a torch and it sizzled loudly to life right next to Dean. A real fucking torch. Dean squinted at it and received a confusing look from Dill but Dean was distracted when the younger soldier walked up to him with a scabbard and a belt.

“For the sword.”

“Oh,” Dean shook his head, smiling. “I shouldn’t, it’s your sword.”

“It was Frank’s,” Captain Rutherford countered briskly. “And you would honor him by using it to protect his Lord.”

Dean swallowed and silently accepted the scabbard. Damn these larpers were serious, serious enough that Dean constantly forgot what was going on and kept confusing reality with real medieval times or something.

He had some trouble with the belt since it was way too big for the belt loops on his jeans and the clasp was weird but he managed. In the corner of his eye he saw the captain frown and Castiel smile politely behind his hand but Dean just rolled with it. Especially since after he had managed he had a real fucking sword hanging off his left hip, how cool was that?

“Good to go?” the captain asked and nodded when Dean did. “Excellent, we seem to have lost the horses, but they will probably return to town on their own. We’re walking for now, though. Dill, Jon, the rear. Sir Dean, with Lord Castiel if you don’t mind? I will take the lead with the torch.”

Walking side-by-side with the supposed Lord’s son seemed a bit fancy for someone like Dean but he didn’t mind. Maybe they had seen his prowess and deemed him worthy of protecting—okay, Dean had to _stop_ making this out to be real.

Still, those vampires had been real so whatever, all of these people clearly needed protection anyway. Vampires tended to travel in packs so Dean was on high alert for more but at the same time he hoped what they had killed had been all of them. It _had_ been quite a few.

“Maybe I should carry the torch so your hands are free, captain?” Castiel suggested but the old man balked at the mere notion.

“Absolutely not, My Lord. This night has been enough of a travesty for you to risk burning your hands as well.”

Castiel didn’t say anything but Dean definitely didn’t think the man agreed. Nevertheless, his silence seemed to satisfy the captain and they started walking at a brisk pace. It didn’t take long before Dean could feel the Lord’s eyes on him and yeah, now that they had proper lighting he supposed his clothes stood out like a sore thumb. Because damn, these guys looked like they came straight out of the history books and Dean in his jeans and leather jacket probably looked like a jackass.

Or, you know, _normal_.

“So, where are we going exactly?” maybe if it was close enough to a road he could just hitch a ride to the motel. Or call a cab.

“To my father’s castle,” Castiel said, his tone suggesting Dean should know and sure he did know _that_. That had already been specified.

“And where is that exactly?”

Captain Rutherford looked over his shoulder at Castiel, his eyes telling Dean that these questions weren’t normal around here.

“In the capitol,” Castiel answered calmly after silently meeting the captain’s eyes. “Forgive me for asking, Sir Dean, but you are not from around here, are you?”

“Not really,” Dean snorted but caught himself when Castiel looked curiously at him. Damn that man’s eyes were something else. “Where is _here_?”

“The Vale,” Castiel answered slowly, as if he thought the news would upset Dean.

“Yeah okay, is that like a _Game of Thrones_ reference or what?”

“I’m not sure what you…”

Dean was getting really fed up with this whole not-breaking-character thing. For real, he didn’t even know why he was going along with it except he had heard people could get really mad and he wanted their help for now.

“Those things,” Captain Rutherford interrupted brusquely. “Are they from the same place you are?”

Dean saw the potential misunderstanding and conflict a mile away. “Not really,” he said smoothly but with enough steal that the captain wouldn’t argue. “We have them too but they exist everywhere. As I said, one bite turns you into them. And if they’re not doing that they’ll eat you like your friend Jason back there.”

“They _fed_ on Jason?” Jon piped up, voice high in fright.

“That’s how they survive,” Dean stated in a grim voice. “Some people they turn and some people they suck dry. Just like in the stories.”

“We have no such stories here, good sir,” Castiel mumbled, his face troubled. “I have never seen anything like this, nor heard about it. If they are indeed coming here or are already among us we need to do something about it.”

“We need to tell Lord Star,” Captain Rutherford agreed, his voice subdued by worry and Dean was starting to get a weird feeling in his stomach. Sure, larpers could be great actors and all but this was a bit _too_ good. What the fuck was even going on?

“Sir Dean will tell him. We should arrive by morning, I will take him to see my father first thing.”

“That would be wise, My Lord.”

“Hang on—”

“Please, Sir Dean,” Castiel turned to him, eyes and voice imploring. “You said you hunt things like this for a living. Please help us help our people.”

Well fuck. For how badass Castiel had looked when he used all his strength to keep that vamp off him he looked incredibly vulnerable right now and since when had Dean been able to say no to a pretty face? Especially someone so manly but at the same time so sweet?

Dean almost tripped over his own feet when he realized his stupid brain had just translated Castiel’s pleading and strength as something both soft and raw at the same time.

“Fucking foreshadowing,” he grunted and shook his head.

“Sir Dean?”

“Yeah sure, I’ll help you.”

Fucking foreshadowing indeed.

 

 

 


	2. Chapter 2

 

 

Immediately as the morning dawned and Dean set his eyes on the capitol of this place he was struck by two things.

One, as towns go this fucking sucked. It was loud and dirty and many of the houses were made of skunky wood with no glass windows. People and animals milled about, everything stank, smoke billowed from some kind of fire further down the road and it made everything sooty.

Two, this was no larping center. He didn’t have to pull out his phone to know that it still couldn’t connect to anything because this was an actual town in some actual medieval time and Dean’s heart nearly seized in his chest. What the fuck was going on? Those fucking rocks… if they’d fucking flipped him back in time or some shit he was going to blow them up.

“Sir Dean,” Castiel exclaimed when Dean staggered on his feet and their whole group stopped so that he could sit down.

The pallet he ended up on was rickety and dirty and Dean didn’t want to touch it but his legs fucking gave out. His vision swam for a moment but he managed not to faint at least, though he was pretty sure it was the joined effort of Castiel and Dill that kept him from faceplanting on the ground and fucking hell, he couldn’t even tell if that was mud or shit. Sure fucking smelled like shit.

“Are you alright?” Captain Rutherford asked, his tone more concerned than his face looked.

“Yeah… long night.”

“Forgive me for asking, but did you travel all on foot?” Castiel’s face came in almost too close when the man sat down beside him. “And you have no packing.”

“Ah,” fuck, Dean didn’t know what to say. It had been so much easier just going along with this ridiculous play when he had thought it had been an actual _play_. Now the lies stuck in his mouth like cheap peanut butter. Where the fuck was he even? _When_ the fuck? “Lost my ride.”

“You got attacked by the vampires too?” Castiel lowered his voice on the word “vampires” and Dean saw the soldiers look around themselves. The people around them were close, some bumping into Dill and Jon even, commonfolk preparing for their day most likely, but no one seemed to pay them any attention.

“I…” _no_ , fucking _humming rocks_ jolted him back in time or some shit like that. “I didn’t see but when I chased after them I found you so I guess…” except the medieval era hadn’t really looked like _this_ in the United States that Dean know of. Maybe he had been transported to England and _then_ back in time? How likely was that? How likely was _any_ of this? “Why were _you_ walking, if you’re a Lord’s son and all?”

Castiel smiled and Dean’s eyes glued to it, the only enjoyable thing so far was the company he had ended up in, that was for sure.

“We had horses too, didn’t you see the dead one? The rest scattered.”

Oh yeah, the captain had mentioned something about the horses returning on their own. “We should have looked for them.”

Seemed easier to focus on things he could do rather than the fact that some magic voodoo had magicked him real fucking good.

“Not when there could have been more of those things lurking out there,” Captain Rutherford stated determinedly. “Lord Castiel’s life had been endangered enough as it was.”

“I’m sorry,” Castiel sighed and stood up, brushing off his pants. “It was my fault we were even there to begin with. If we had waited until morning like cousin Robert suggested…”

“I never intended to insinuate your guilt in the matter, My Lord,” the captain exclaimed, his tone of voice and the look on his face clearly showing how heartbroken he felt at having made Castiel feel bad. Damn these people really seemed to like Castiel more than for mere duty’s sake. That was a good sign, Dean thought.

If he had to end up being transported to some weird alternate universe it felt good to know he had ended up with some good people. Of course, that they seemed nice and bled red just like humans didn’t mean they couldn’t be eating boiled testicles for dinner or some shit like that.

The thought made a hysterical laughter bubble up but he managed to squash it by coughing shortly and shooting to his feet.

“Sorry, I’m better now. Thanks for waiting.”

Castiel nodded with a small smile. For some reason Dean got it in his head that the man’s smiles were a rare sight to behold, even though he had seen quite a few on their walk here. Both Dill and Jon seemed a bit awestruck every time Castiel smiled at Dean and the sight had even drawn the eyes of the grizzled old captain.

Another good sign, Dean hoped.

 

 

* * *

 

 

Castiel didn’t think he had ever seen a man quite like Sir Dean. Everything about him was intriguing, his speech pattern and colloquial terms, his odd clothes and apparent knowledge about such unnatural things as these vampires. And he had swung that sword like it had been an extension of his own arm but he was clearly unused to the weight of the weapon, which was an interesting contradiction.

Another thing that struck Castiel as strangely endearing was the way Sir Dean reacted to the most common things. Like a pig running past them on the streets of the town or the sound of the church bell calling parishioners to morning mass. He nearly squeaked when he saw a chicken sleeping on a windowsill and when a dog sat down to relieve itself on the street Dean shied away almost as if bitten.

And he had this expression on his face that was somewhere between awestruck and fearful, almost as if he was excited or interested by the things he saw but that he at the same time also was ashamed of having such feelings. As if he should feel nothing but blandness about everything that went on around him. Castiel didn’t understand why but was entirely too entertained with watching Sir Dean trying to suppress his emotions to mention it to the man.

Instead he contented himself with watching subtly as Sir Dean’s face revealed minute changes in his mood and the exercise got even funnier when they entered the keep, what Castiel referred to as “the castle” but that was in reality nothing more than a stone stronghold. Blocky and ugly was how his mother had lovingly referred to it and it wasn’t wrong. But it was home and Castiel, though prone to a wandering mind, always felt relief when he laid eyes on it’s grey walls.

It did tower a bit over the town below, though, and he knew his father didn’t like that. Contrary to many men in Castiel’s lineage, Lord Star wasn’t one to put himself above the commonfolk. He was very down-to-earth and loved by his people, so much that Castiel had understood that they didn’t feel loomed over by the keep but rather protected by its nearby walls.

Sir Dean stopped as they entered the courtyard, clearly unable to not stare with his mouth open and Castiel shared a smile with Captain Rutherford. Dill and Jon seemed amused as well but hid it well enough.

“I will come with you and Sir Dean to see the Lord,” Captain Rutherford stated, drawing Sir Dean’s attention. “I need to see the Lord Commander anyway, and to report about the casualties. Dill and Jon to the barracks.”

The two soldiers saluted them and walked off and Castiel was unable to hide a chuckle when he saw Dean waving at their backs.

The walk through the keep was relatively silent and Dean was back to being completely gobsmacked by the most ordinary things. Well, ordinary to Castiel and the captain at least. He suspected that most commonfolk would also be impressed by the sight of the shining suit of armors that lined the walls or the beautiful tapestries that told of bold battles of old.

Castiel for his part was back to watching Sir Dean, and not only the man’s expressions but also his whole appearance. He still wore the belt and scabbard he had been given, the sword swinging with his steps and he was clearly unused to having something like that by his side. His clothes weren’t fit for fighting nor everyday living, it seemed, made of strange materials that had Castiel wishing he could just reach out and grab it to see how it would feel.

On his left arm Dean wore something black around his wrist, Castiel didn’t know what it was but it had numbers on it, and on his other wrist he had some kind of bracelet so he suspected the black thing was some kind of jewelry as well. On his right ring finger he also had what appeared to be a silver ring, which seemed entirely too expensive for someone not highborn.

Granted, Castiel didn’t know how things worked where Sir Dean was from and the ring could either be less valuable than it looked or maybe a reward for a job well done. It anyhow caught Castiel’s attention, maybe even more than the strange necklace Dean wore outside his black shirt. It seemed to depict some kind of devil’s head and if Castiel hadn’t known Dean made a living of hunting evil things he might have been concerned at the sight of the necklace. As it was now he found strange comfort in it, as if it was more of a protective amulet than anything else.

Sir Dean of course noticed Castiel staring at him and when he turned his head to let their eyes meet, Castiel didn’t shy away. Sir Dean seemed taken aback by that and Castiel knew he was being too brazen, had been told so his whole life, but instead of scoffing at him, Sir Dean just held his gaze and winked.

An odd flutter went through Castiel’s stomach and he smiled with both surprise and delight, a strange but not unwelcome combination.

 

*********

 

“So you are, in fact, not here to investigate these vampyrs?”

They were in father’s study, having cleaned off the road dust while Captain Rutherford gave his account on the night’s mishappenings. The study was by far Castiel’s favorite of all of father’s many rooms. The walls were lined with leather bound books and much fewer servants were in attendance, giving a sense of peace and privacy.

Father leaned in a little over the desk he was situated behind and Castiel could see how uncomfortable Sir Dean was. He sighed, pulling his curious father’s eyes to him.

“They’re called vampires, father.”

“Ah, no, sorry but I’m actually not,” Sir Dean was clearly not used to speaking to highborns and Castiel found the man’s attempts endearing to say the least. “Your Grace.”

Father seemed mightily pleased to be addressed so highly and he straightened with a smile. “Well, in any case you have valuable knowledge on them and you have saved my men and baby boy.”

Castiel endured father patting him on the cheek with a calm that came from years of enduring similar pampering. Father only had two sons and since mother had passed away his focus had definitely been on the runt on the family, Castiel. That being said, to call Castiel “baby boy” was a stretch since he was well into adulthood and actually should be thinking about marriage and sealing alliances.

Jonah, the elder by almost a decade, was set to inherit father’s lands and everything that came with the title of Lord of the Vale while Castiel, on the other hand, in theory was freer to do what he wanted. Except he never knew exactly what. He knew he was bored, stifled even, and he liked to travel a lot. He also knew that father wanted him happy and had been thinking along the marriage lines because Gods knew father had been the most happy when he had had his wife by his side. But there was something holding the old Lord back from acting on it and though Castiel didn’t know what it was, he was eternally grateful for the respite.

“I dunno about that, Castiel—uh, Lord Castiel seemed able to fight on his own.”

Sir Dean’s sudden compliment made Castiel’s cheeks heat with pride. It was obvious that while Sir Dean wasn’t used to the court he was extremely well-acquainted with combat and to have him praise Castiel’s poor attempts at protecting himself felt unexpectedly nice.

“Well, with the time he spends with Sir Leonard in the armory I should hope so,” father said, a mischievous glint in his eyes. Castiel was under no illusion that father wasn’t aware that he and Sir Leonard mostly just shared wine and cheese while the old soldier humored Castiel with exciting battle stories. “But, to the matter at hand, should I be concerned about these vampires?”

Sir Dean shrugged. “I don’t think they’ll be much of a threat now. Usually they travel in smaller packs and we killed what could be their entire pack. But if you want me to I can give your men a few pointers to help them spot the vamps and take them out in the future?”

“That would be splendid!” father exclaimed. “From the report Captain Rutherford gave me you are most capable, he had only good things to say and I think he would be most interested in taking your advice on the matter.”

“Do you hunt other things?” both father and Sir Dean turned to Castiel and he smiled a little, strangely glad to have Sir Dean’s eyes on him. “You said you are a hunter, that it’s your job to hunt supernatural things and kill them. I assume that vampires aren’t the only supernatural things out there?”

Sir Dean looked like he was impressed Castiel had remembered and Castiel almost felt like preening, which was just silly. He had always had a good head for remembering things and he often got praised for it so this shouldn’t feel any different.

In the corner of his eyes he could see his father mouthing the word “supernatural” and yes, it was very unfamiliar to Castiel as well but he didn’t want to be the first one to admit that.

“Uh, yeah,” Sir Dean smiled unexpectedly and it was dazzling. “I mean, there are a lot of shit—uh, I mean, stuff out there. Not all is dangerous but most is, you know?”

Castiel didn’t know but he wanted to, there was just something so exotic and foreign about Sir Dean that drew him in and he wanted to know as much as he could about this mysterious man and his dangerous occupation.

“So is that why you are here?” father interrupted and for the first time in his life Castiel felt angered at being pushed to the side. Usually he was introverted and not very outspoken in conversations and that was fine with him but right now he felt robbed of Sir Dean’s attention. Such an odd thought. “To search for supernaturally things?”

Sir Dean smiled, obviously amused with how father used the new word. “In a way,” he seemed to check himself, as if making a decision. “Actually I came here to investigate the rocks out in the woods?”

There was a beat of silence before father leaned in a bit again, clearly intrigued. “Which ones?”

“Uh,” Sir Dean gave Castiel a kind of helpless look and it seemed adorable on such a big and otherwise capable man. “The big ones? The ones in a circle, kinda.”

“Oh you mean the Hornet Rocks,” father straightened with a knowing nod while Sir Dean just looked lost, almost like a puppy who had strayed too far from home.

“What kind of name is that?”

“It’s because there used to be loads of hornet nests there,” Castiel supplied with a small smile. “The place is actually called Hornet Hill, the rocks just happened to acquire the name by association.”

“I kinda thought it was because they hummed like that,” Sir Dean mumbled, clearly too low to be meant for their ears but Castiel caught it nonetheless and it made him even more curious. “Anyway, yeah I’m here about them. Apparently they have, uh, magical potency or… yeah, something like that. I need to check that.”

Father and Castiel nodded, both men out of their elements and more than willing to defer to Sir Dean’s expertise on the matter. Castiel had played up by those rocks when he was younger, when mother was still alive and they had picnics out in the fields below the hill, and he had never felt anything odd around the stones but then again he wasn’t very “magical” himself either.

 “You should speak with the Ravens,” father suggested then and Castiel nodded. Sir Dean, for his part, just looked confusedly at them.

“The birds?” he asked at length, making father guffaw and Castiel smile kindly.

“No,” he said, finally getting Sir Dean’s full focus back on him. “The Ravens are a nomadic people that live on our lands. They travel in coaches and covered wagons and for all their outdoors living they have strangely pale skin, which makes their raven black hair stand out in stark contrast.”

“We call them the Ravens,” father added, amusement still evident in his tone. “We don’t speak their language and their elders have assured us that the nickname is fine.”

“Apparently ravens are revered as truth seekers, birds of great wisdom and influence, among their people,” Castiel added. Sir Dean just blinked at him for a moment.

“Well that sounds freaking awesome,” he grinned and Gods, it just made his face light up even more. “They sure sound like they can help me with these weird rocks.”

“I think so too,” father agreed, tone please. “And let me put it like this; if they _can’t_ help you then I don’t know who can.”

Sir Dean swallowed and nodded, expression somber now and Castiel marvelled at the range of emotions the man was able to display so easily.

“So where can I find them, then?”

“Nowhere,” father held up his hands in a helpless shrug when Sir Dean almost glared at him. “And everywhere. They’re _nomadic_.”

“Right,” Sir Dean mumbled, looking defeated and Castiel spared a frown at his father for not elaborating more, before turning to the other man.

“But they come here every year for the harvest festival,” he explained, feeling a strange thrill at having put a hopeful expression on Sir Dean’s face again.

“Really?”

“Really,” Castiel repeated, tone warm. “They’ll be here within the next lunar cycle’s end.”

Sir Dean pursed his lips and Castiel didn’t even know why his eyes were drawn to them. What a strange place to look when talking to a man. Or someone at all, he supposed.

“How long is this moon cycle then? I mean, isn’t it a little late for harvesting?”

That Sir Dean was unused to speaking with nobility was one thing, his strange clothes and speech patterns was another thing, but the fact that he didn’t know how long a lunar cycle was gave Castiel pause. He could see his father hesitating too and took it upon himself to smooth it over.

“Regular harvesting yes, but I was referring to pumpkin harvesting. We always have a huge festival along with it, honoring the Gods who saw it fit to bless us during the year.”

“Uh-huh,” Sir Dean suddenly looked very suspicious, straightening in his chair. “And what do you do to honor the Gods? Sacrifices?”

“Pumpkin sacrifices!” father exclaimed with a hearty laugh, patting his prominent belly. “Our cooks, the best in the land, always make a show of trying to best each other with delicious pumpkin recipes. There is dancing and music and contests. Biggest pumpkin, best pie, the works.”

Sir Dean visibly relaxed and Castiel wondered for a wild moment if the man had feared that they dealt with pagan rituals, such as animal sacrifices. He wanted to assure Sir Dean that that was the furthest from the truth but didn’t want to seem foolish if he was in fact mistaken.

“Did you say pie? Do you have pumpkin pies?”

“In abundance!”

That seemed to really invigorate Sir Dean and Castiel was suddenly struck by the thought of food. Mayhaps Sir Dean was hungry? They had walked all night and fought off those vampires and now it was even late enough that they had missed breakfast. No doubt was the man hungry and Castiel thought he should try and shorten this meeting. It was obvious that his father was as curious about Sir Dean as the rest of them but they could continue this conversation later.

“The lunar cycle lasts for about 30 days,” he stated and to the other two men the information certainly seemed abrupt. To amend his poor conversational skills he added a small smile, which seemed to instantly draw Sir Dean’s attention. “And the last one just ended, so the Ravens will be here in about 30 days, maybe less.”

“And they always come for this festival?”

“Certainly,” Castiel nodded for emphasis. “Their wagons and camps are a welcome sight because it means the festival is upon us.”

“You should speak with Madame Eve,” father cut in, drawing Sir Dean’s attention away from Castiel once again. “She’s one of their elders and I bet you my whiskers she’s the one to know the most about such things.”

“Madame Eve,” Sir Dean repeated with a nod. “Thank you, My Lord. You’re a lifesaver.”

“Oh no,” father vehemently shook his head. “From what I hear you are the life saver. And you shall be thusly rewarded.”

“Ah,” Sir Dean looked uncomfortable again. “You don’t need to do that, I was just doin’ my job, you know?”

Father nodded solemnly but then ploughed on like he usually did. Stubborn like a bull, was how mother had used to describe him and Castiel had always thought it was a fitting description.

“You will of course remain here for as long as you need, as an honored guest in my house, and—”

“Really,” Sir Dean held up a hand, speaking out of turn and definitely on his way to get to his feet even without being dismissed. He was lucky father was a lenient Lord, Castiel thought. “I feel weird accepting things just like that.”

“Just like that?” father repeated, confusion etching his round face. “You _saved_ my son’s life. And the good captain, a valuable part of my house guard. Too valuable to lose on something like an escort. Really, he shouldn’t even have been there but I need someone sturdy to look after my baby when he goes on his foolish visits to his even more foolish cousin and—” father quieted, squinting at Sir Dean for a moment, rubbing his chin in thought. “How about this,” he started slowly. “I want to reward you by letting you stay here, yet you don’t feel like you’ve earned the reward. How about for as long as you are remaining here, you act as Castiel’s bodyguard?”

“Bodyguard?” Sir Dean asked, confused.

“Honor guard, even,” father continued and Castiel could tell from his tone of voice how much he was warming up to the idea. Castiel couldn’t blame him, though, for him to have a chance to spend more time with Sir Dean sounded wonderful. He was sure the hunter had a lot of interesting stories about faraway places. “Castiel has a knack for going exploring,” he cast a slanted glance at Castiel but left it at that.

One time Castiel tried to fly by making wings out of twigs and hay and broke his arm. One time.

When he looked up he found that Sir Dean was grinning ear to ear and the sight made his cheeks heat again and he lowered his eyes demurely for some reason. Trust it to his father to embarrass Castiel in front of seasoned warriors like Sir Dean…

“So you need company on those explorations, Lord Castiel?” Sir Dean asked, his tone jaunty and Castiel harrumphed.

“You can call me Castiel, you don’t need to bother with any titles, I don’t know why the guards do.”

“Because they are proper,” father stated and turned to Sir Dean, expression hopeful. “What do you say about that offer? Protect my son, be his manservant even, and I’ll provide you with food and lodgings.”

“I, uh, it sounds great but I don’t know much about being a manservant or whatever.”

“It’s fine,” Castiel hastened to add before father could go blabbing about how Castiel never had been able to properly get along with any of his other manservants. “You don’t need to attend to me, just keep me company and protect me while you stay here and wait for the Ravens.”

Sir Dean grinned again, his eyes sweeping up and down Castiel’s body for some reason. It made Castiel feel heated and he kind of liked it.

“Sure, I’ll keep you company, no problem.”

“And also please teach my guards,” father added and Castiel felt his skin prickle, almost as if he had forgotten his father’s presence in the room. Sir Dean’s eyes were truly a weapon of their own.

“Don’t pile too much on poor Sir Dean’s shoulders,” Castiel reprimanded kindly but Sir Dean just shrugged.

“It’s fine, I think I’ll manage.”

“Splendid!”

A few moments later they were dismissed and Castiel found himself alone with Sir Dean for the first time, leading the man to his quarters. He had so many questions but so little courage to ask them at this moment. He hoped that they would grow closer during the coming cycle so that perhaps Sir Dean would consider staying longer or that he would return in the future. Perhaps Castiel could even come with him to his homelands sometime? He had yet to discern where that was but he had high hopes of the mysterious man opening up to him now that father had given them such an excellent excuse to stay in each other’s company. He just hoped Sir Dean wouldn’t be bored with him.

Castiel’s whole body sized with anxiety at the sudden notion. People often told him he was boring, not outright but in their actions and with their pitiful stares. As a child he had had no close friends save his cousin Robert and brother Jonah, and as an adult he found himself mostly in the company of soldiers. He didn’t think he was disliked, more that he… well he just wasn’t _fun_ enough.

“So, you sure you’re okay with this, Castiel?”

He turned to Sir Dean with a surprised expression. “Of course, why wouldn’t I be?”

“Well I just mean,” Sir Dean rubbed the back of his neck, not meeting Castiel’s eyes. “Having a schmuck like me following you around, it’s gonna get tiresome pretty quick, right?”

Castiel didn’t know what a “schmuck” was but assumed from Sir Dean’s tone that it wasn’t a good thing to be one.

“I think it’s going to be very interesting, Sir Dean,” he said, tone warm. Sir Dean looked up at him with surprise. “I don’t know anyone like you and I would like to learn as much as I can. My father is right, I do explore a lot and it’s because I’m bored. You seem like a breath of fresh air.”

He looked on with wonder as a small blush spread over Sir Dean’s cheeks and over his nose, highlighting—was that… yes, there was a dusting of freckles that went over Sir Dean’s nose and they stood out with his blush. How disarmingly charming.

“W-well I wouldn’t know about that.”

Castiel just smiled, happy to have made such a man stumble on his words. It was a novel feeling for him but one that he welcomed. “Now come with me, Sir Dean, and I’ll show you your room.”

“Room? Aren’t I gonna sleep in the barracks or something?”

“Gods no,” Castiel snorted out a small laugh. “You heard my father, you’re practically going to be my manservant. And even if you and I can agree that I _don’t_ ,” pause to hammer the order in, Castiel didn’t continue until Dean nodded in understanding, “need that kind of help, you will still enjoy the comforts of being a Lord’s son’s closest servant. Meaning you’ll take the manservant’s appointed room, the one adjoining mine.”

“Okay,” Sir Dean grinned, nodding again. “Cool.”

“Actually it’s quite warm for the season, but if you feel cold you are free to light a fire in your room, Sir Dean.”

Castiel didn’t know what but something he had said made Sir Dean laugh and the sound was infectious, making Castiel smile as well.

“Dude, for real, you don’t have to call me sir. I ain’t a knight, kinda feels insulting to real knights to call someone like me that.”

Castiel wanted to ask about the “someone like me” comment but decided against it for now, suspecting he wouldn’t get a straightforward answer anyway. Hopefully in the days to come he would learn more on his own.

“Oh, I suppose we all just assumed considering your work. What title may I use then?”

“I told you,” Sir Dean’s smile turned fond and it warmed Castiel inside and out. “Dean is fine. I’m just Dean.”

Castiel swallowed, feeling strangely drawn in by the man’s casual attitude. “Then in that case I would like for you to call me Cas, at least when we are alone. It’s…” he looked down, smiling to himself. “It’s what my closest family call me.”

That and “Cassie” but he didn’t need to admit to that just yet. He had already had to endure father calling him “baby” in front of the hunter, there was only so much humiliation he could take before lunch.

“Cas it is then,” Dean winked, eyes almost twinkling to Castiel. “Milord.”

 

 


	3. Chapter 3

 

 

Dean didn’t sleep very well because no shit, but he made due. If he got his four hours he would at least be functional and it wasn’t like Cas required much from him anyway. The man had even remarked on Dean’s droopy eyes and taken it upon himself to help Dean with his sleep.

To be honest Dean wasn’t so sure about taking a sleeping drug concocted by someone only loosely resembling a doctor, called Medico of all stupid things, but he also knew he needed to rest properly if he was to take care of Cas. A job he found highly important for now because shit, Cas and his family treated Dean so nice and he didn’t want to lose that security, not when he was stuck here for a goddamn month.

Hell, who knew, he could actually be stuck here period. And he’d gotten a good look of the world with the help of a scholar’s hand drawn map and now he knew for sure he wasn’t even on planet Earth, not in any timeline. And yeah, if he hadn’t already abandoned the thought and hope that this was his own world a few centuries back in time just from seeing the map, then he definitely did it when Cas presented him with the water pumps. Dean was no history buff but he was pretty goddamn certain that steampunk hadn’t been a part of medieval Europe and seeing the town’s part-mechanical pump facility it clearly was here and it made him feel even more confident to call this another world entirely. Another dimension, even? Perhaps that was going too far, the point was that he wasn’t in good old America.

But seriously, all this honestly scared the shit out of him because how the fuck would he get home now? What if the Ravens couldn’t help him? He thought needed to go up and kick around the rocks but didn’t know how to go about doing that when he was supposed to be Cas’ escort. Supposedly the man would be okay with following Dean up there but he thought they had to get a little close for him to dare ask, if he even dared go up to those rocks again. Though he supposed he had to if he wanted to get home…

Thoughts like that were what kept him up at night but at least Medico’s brew made him relax a little. Which was lucky since he couldn’t really drink with this gig, and the whisky anyhow tasted like fox piss. Good ale though so, silver lining.

Anyway, in the end Dean had helped out with rounding up the horses that had been spooked by the vampires and though he thought him helping was only natural he found that it was more appreciated than he had expected. Cas later explained that it was because word about the vampires had gotten out among the guards and that they were nervous about meeting such creatures. Apparently Dean’s presence made them a little more at ease, go figure.

When they returned with the bodies of the fallen soldiers Dean almost choked up a little. Cas insisted on being there when the families were reunited, so to speak, and because of that Dean had to be there too and it was… well fuck, meeting with the families of monster victims was always hard. Cas took it like a champ, though he told Dean in confidence later that he felt incredibly bad about it.

“It was my fault,” he’d said with a hollow voice. “They died to protect me.”

Dean wanted to argue that aside from Jason, who Dean had actually seen trying to defend Cas, the same might not be true for the others. Sure, they had been there as a guarded escort for Cas but when faced with the vamps there was no telling what had gone through their minds. They might have just been fighting to get away.

“They knew there would be risks,” was all he had said, though, figuring Cas wouldn’t be comforted anyhow.

“They didn’t know about _these_ risks,” Cas had argued and fucking hell, the man looked good when he was all fierce like that...

Yeah, it had taken about two days for Dean’s attraction to get ridiculous.

“And that’s why I said I’d educate them, right?”

Today they were going to do just that. After lunch Dean would hold one of what Lord Star hoped to be many training sessions for fighting supernatural beasts. And fuck, Dean barely knew where to start. He had grown up with this shit, how would he be able to sort through it to come up with a somewhat comprehensible curriculum? _Everything_ was important.

He supposed he should start with the basics. Holy water, chop heads off, silver. Couldn’t go wrong with that and besides, he didn’t even know what kind of monsters this world had. Considering how everything was so painfully medieval he supposed the odd werewolf wouldn’t be so far-fetched and vampires he already knew. Probably ghosts too because those assholes were everywhere. Oh, salt and iron. Basics.

Now, because they would be spending the afternoon with the soldiers Cas had insisted on taking Dean down to the armory to get him equipped and though Dean had objected that he would hardly need weapons for a theoretical lesson this ended up being the funniest thing he had done in a _long_ while.

“Look at this one, Cas,” he called, swinging the bastard sword in a swooping arc. “This one is much lighter!”

Cas smiled, somewhat indulgently, and shared a look with the grizzled old soldier who manned the armory, Sir Leonard.

“That’s very nice Dean.”

It was fucking cool was what it was. Dean danced around the armory for a while, enjoying the swishing sound the sword made as it cut through the air. He had to stop when lactic acid burned too hot and he only then realized that he was panting.

“This is some tough shit,” he exclaimed with a grin.

Sir Leonard snorted and fingered the longsword Dean had tried first. “You should try it with armor on.”

Dean glanced at the full plate armors that lined the wall. “I don’t think I have the body for that.”

“You could, if you trained,” Sir Leonard remarked and walked up to Dean, smacking him on the shoulder so that he straightened. “You have broad shoulders and a strong chest, good foundations.”

Dean, for some reason, turned to beam at Cas like a fucking five-year-old in a candy store. “D’you hear that, Cas? I could be a _knight_.”

Cas chuckled, shaking his head overly fondly for someone who had only known Dean for about three days. But damn, sometimes Dean looked at Cas and felt as if they had known each other since forever and he thought Cas sometimes felt the same.

“You forget that I thought you were, when we met.”

“Oh please,” Dean rolled his eyes and accepted a shorter sword when Sir Leonard handed it to him. “I don’t have the manners for that.”

“You’re telling me,” Sir Leonard muttered but he was smiling slightly so Dean didn’t detect any animosity from the man. Mostly he seemed to genuinely enjoy Cas’ company and Dean thought that was a good thing because so did he. In some ways the old knight reminded him of Bobby and the similarities comforted him too.

“What’s this, then?”

“Shortsword,” Sir Leonard grunted and Dean thought he could have figured that out himself considering it was only about 20 inches long. “For thrusting attacks, and parry if you use it in your off-hand.”

Dean hefted the sword for a moment before Sir Leonard’s words sunk in. “You mean I’m supposed to use this bastard in one hand?” he asked, incredulous, and lifted the bigger sword.

“Indeed,” Sir Leonard confirmed and retreated a safe distance as if he expected Dean to start swinging immediately.

“But…”

“That’s where the bastard sword gets its name,” Cas grinned, clearly enjoying Dean’s bewilderment. “Because it can be used both as a one-handed _and_ a two-handed weapon.”

Dean couldn’t even imagine fighting like this, not for a longer time — hell, his arms were already aching — but fucking hell, he suddenly wanted nothing more than something to hit.

“Cool,” he exclaimed with childish glee and started swinging, trying to find a groove.

“He keeps saying that but I mean, it’s pretty hot for the season,” Cas muttered to Sir Leonard.

“Maybe it’s a local term,” the old knight grunted back.

Dean ignored them both, too caught up in playing with his swords.

 

 

* * *

 

 

Dean was truly remarkable, Castiel thought. The way he had so easily agreed to help with the horses, with educating the soldiers, with keeping Castiel company, yes it stood clear to him that even though Dean most probably did all that to further his own cause he was still a very selfless and giving person.

And that day when Dean had been trying out weapons with Sir Leonard as if he didn’t even know how to use half of them had been entertaining to say the least. Dean was clearly a grown man but he had shown such wonderfully sweet expressions that Castiel’s heart had started thumping. And seeing Dean eventually spar with Sir Leonard had been a treat.

Dean had insisted on only using a shortsword and a buckler and Castiel had thought was insane but Gods… he had looked so smooth. His movements told Castiel that the man had seen many battles and the ease with which he danced around the lumbering Sir Leonard made Dean’s choice to go without armor perfectly understandable.

Dean had explained that he never used any kind of armor and though that felt baffling it did fit with his lithe and quick fighting style. Castiel supposed you would have to be quick to fight monsters such as those vampires and it wouldn’t matter if you didn’t have armor against creatures like that anyway, once they caught you, you were already dead.

Dean had kept the shortsword afterwards but declined the buckler, leaving him largely unequipped, or maybe _under_ equipped would be the better term, considering that Dean was not just Castiel’s company but also his personal guard. Though after seeing Dean in action, both live and in the sparring ring, Castiel didn’t feel overly concerned anyway.

Besides, they were just ambling about town for the most part and Castiel felt safe there, although he as usual went out equipped with his own sword.

“So Cas, I gotta ask,” Dean stopped him in the middle of a street, one of many that led to the main square. “What’s up with that house?”

He pointed at the building in question and Castiel was momentarily mesmerized by Dean’s hand. Or his fingers, to be more accurate. They were very big, like the man in general, and Castiel found himself admiring them probably more than was appropriate. And then there was that ring…

Dean had explained to the soldiers yesterday that silver was very effective against a lot of supernatural beings and that they should take to carry around something made of it.

“It doesn’t have to be big,” Dean had said when he noticed the men squirming, clearly understanding that most of them were too poor to own anything of silver. “Like a coin or jewelry is enough. It can harm them so having a silver lined weapon is great, but mostly you can use it for detection. Some monsters will react as if burned if you touch them with it and even a small coin can manage that.”

“Something to think about for their standard equipment,” Captain Rutherford had muttered to their Commander, Sir Tollard, and Castiel had felt boosted. He knew _he_ certainly took Dean seriously and he felt relieved that their soldiers seemed to do so as well.

And so Castiel couldn’t help but wonder if Dean’s ring wasn’t silver after all.

“Which house?”

“The weirdly run-down one, smack dab between two fresh lookin’ houses. The clearly bullied house Cas, come on.”

Dean had a way of words that made Castiel smile, sometimes for no apparent reason.

“That’s Mrs. Steely’s house,” he answered and grinned widely at Dean’s eye-roll. Castiel occasionally enjoyed being a little shit, especial with Dean. “Also called Mad Mary.”

Dean’s face smoothed out and he looked contemplatively at the house for a moment. Castiel felt a surge low in his abdomen and he couldn’t tear his eyes away from the other man’s handsome face.

“My mother was named Mary,” he said after a while and Castiel wanted to ask a thousand questions. Dean rarely shared anything personal and for some reason Castiel was starved for it. But then he turned to Castiel with a small smile, breaking the sudden tension. “Weird coincidence.”

Castiel didn’t want to ruin Dean’s mood by saying that Mary was a highly common name. “The house is run-down because no one dares to live there.”

That sure got Dean’s attention. “What do you mean?”

They started walking closer and Castiel got chills looking at the partially boarded up, black windows. “Well I don’t know for sure because most of it happened when I was still a little boy but the story goes Mary went mad after her daughter disappeared.”

Dean frowned and dared to lean in and look through a gap between the boards. Castiel half expected the house to just swallow Dean and he got a sudden urge to yank him away. To hold him close and to protect him. His eyes swept up and down Dean’s body. What a strange urge to want to protect someone so clearly able to protect themselves.

“Is that why she’s living like she’s a prisoner or something? You shutting her in here?”

“Gods no,” Castiel shook his head and saw Dean smiling appreciatively at him. “No, Mrs. Steely is dead, and _that’s_ why no one can live there,” he prepared to walk away when Dean straightened but was surprised when the man made for the door. “Rumor was that Mrs. Steely kept her daughter locked up to protect her from the world after Mrs. Steely’s husband died. That drove the girl to insanity and one night Mrs. Steely woke from an uneasy slumber only to find the girl’s bedroom window open and the girl nowhere to be found.”

“And did you?” Dean asked, stopping in front of the front door. “Find her? Or her body?”

“No,” Castiel shook his head again. “I remember the manhunts, though. Mother was still alive then and she begged my father to let as many soldiers as possible go on them.”

“I guess she related to the poor woman.”

“I suppose so,” Castiel smiled a little, remembering his loving mother fondly. “But no trace was found, I think the general consensus eventually was that she must have run away with that mysterious stranger her diary told tales about.”

“Mysterious stranger?” Dean laughed, going up to the door as if to knock on it and Castiel once again got that weird urge to pull him away. “How old was she even?”

“Sixteen, I think.”

“Oh she totally fucked off with her boyfriend,” Dean snorted. “And poor mother dear went insane you say?” thankfully it turned out that Dean was only aiming to look through the dirty little window in the middle of the door.

“Yes, I remember hearing about her roaming the streets in the dead of night, calling out for her daughter. And during the days she would stay inside and weep until she eventually wasted away. The then neighbor found her dead in the girl’s room.”

“Lemme guess,” Dean turned to him and Castiel’s neck prickled when Dean put his back to the house. It seemed to loom more than before, somehow. “Now no one can live in it because they get disturbed by distant sobbing and stuff moving around? Sudden chilly spots and ominous presences?”

Castiel looked at Dean with no doubt big eyes and the man only grinned at him. “Three families have tried,” he said slowly after a moment. “But they get woken up in the night by Mad Mary calling for her girl and one family even said they weren’t allowed into the room where the girl had lived. Those words exactly: ‘weren’t allowed’.”

“You seem to know a lot about this.”

Castiel almost squirmed and Dean only grinned wider. “I find myself drawn to the mystery, yes.”

“No mystery here,” Dean nodded back to the house, crossing his arms casually. “You’ve got a ghost in there, probably a vengeful spirit by now.”

Castiel appreciated that Dean had lowered his voice when he revealed that particular tidbit. It made him take a step closer, though, which made Dean smile anew.

“A ghost? Someone coming back from the dead?”

“Yeah, do you remember I talked about those yesterday?”

Castiel nodded his head, looking down. “Salt and iron, you said, to protect us. But how much can they hurt? As I understood it they don’t have bodies?”

“Oh trust me, being incorporeal has nothing to do with an angry ghost’s ability to smack you around,” Dean glanced back at the house and spoke up again before Castiel could ask what incorporeal meant. “I should help her.”

“Help her?”

Dean looked seriously at him. “Help her cross over to the other side, so she can find peace. And so people can live in this house again, bring it some joy.”

“That…” Castiel couldn’t help but smile when his stomach filled with a warm, comfortable feeling. “That’s very considerate of you.”

Dean looked surprised and then started laughing, shaking his head. “Nah, Cas. It’s my job.”

“The job you don’t get paid to do,” Castiel couldn’t help but clarify because that piece of information always amazed him. Dean put himself in harm’s way for other people simply because it was the right thing to do and it was absolutely astonishing to him.

“I wouldn’t say that,” Dean grinned, putting a hand on Castiel’s shoulder and squeezing. “The last job I did ended up rewarding me with a bed in a Lord’s house, I’d say that’s pretty nice compensation.”

Castiel’s whole shoulder felt warm and his fingers tingled with a sudden need to touch Dean back. He refrained, but only because he felt confused about the deepness of the need. The hand Dean had on Castiel’s shoulder was his right hand and Castiel found himself irrationally wishing he was naked so that he would be able to feel the coolness of Dean’s ring on his bare skin. The thought almost made him blush, it was so random, and he hurried to distract himself.

“So if we’re going to help Mrs. Steely, what do we start with?”

It was almost a relief when Dean pulled his hand away, the touch suddenly searing even through his many layers of clothes.

“ _We_ ain’t doing nothing, Cas,” Dean said with amusement. “I’m not putting you in danger.”

“But you’d put yourself in danger? Alone? Wouldn’t back-up be better?”

Dean seemed lost in thought for a moment before shaking himself. “Of course it would but I can’t have you there, I would get… distracted,” he looked almost sheepishly at Castiel. “I would be nervous that you’d get hurt, okay?”

Oh so Dean was concerned about his job as Castiel’s bodyguard? Well, that was reasonable. Then on the other hand, if Castiel had been a reasonable man he wouldn’t have needed a bodyguard in peace times.

“I’ll be fine,” he stated, his tone more demanding now, like father had taught him and Jonah when they were younger. They were of noble birth after all. “I am fully capable of defending myself, and I promise I’ll keep to the background.”

He felt pleased that Dean’s eyes widened a little, clearly responding favorably to Castiel’s dominating tone.

“Fucking hell,” Dean muttered, turning away and scrubbing a hand across his mouth. “Fine, but you have to do what I say.”

“Of course, as long as your orders aren’t ‘run and save yourself’.”

“You’re impossible, you know that?”

Castiel felt childishly proud even though that had hardly been praise. “I know,” he grinned widely when Dean only shook his head. “Now, what’s first?”

“First,” Dean looked up at the house. “We have to get inside to see if it really is a ghost.”

Castiel’s bravado immediately deflated at the thought of entering the cursed house. “Oh. Yes, I suppose… that’s prudent.”

“Remember what I said? Iron.”

Castiel nodded and looked around them for a moment before his eyes landed on a nearby horse stable. “I’ll be right back.”

“Hey Cas,” Dean stopped him with a hand on his shoulder again, this time the left. “We’re gonna need to break into the house, the guards aren’t gonna come and arrest me or something, are they?”

“No Dean,” Castiel couldn’t help but smile at the notion. “You’re with me.”

“Oh,” Dean grinned widely and let go of Castiel only to turn back to the house. “Cool.”

Castiel should really ask about that expression but he also thought he was starting to get it. At least he knew that Dean only said it when he was satisfied with something, so despite the actual meaning of the word Castiel actually felt warm to hear Dean say it now. He smiled all the way over to the stable, feeling thrilled about being so directly involved in helping Dean with his job, what an adventure!

 

 

* * *

 

 

Dean had felt fucking ridiculous sneaking around the dusty and dirty house equipped with a horseshoe to ward off angry spirits but he supposed you worked with what you had at hand. In any case, ridiculousness or not, he hadn’t been able to say no when Cas had returned with two horseshoes looking like he had brought Dean an offering of gold.

“Will this work?” he had asked, tone conspiratorial and Dean had gotten a sudden and insane urge to kiss the man.

“If it’s iron it’s fine,” he had grunted, turning away to try and shake that urge but it was stubborn.

And as they tiptoed around the house, looking at all the _sad_ that was littered around the place, Dean had started regretting his choice to cave to Cas’ dom tone. But damn, _that_ voice in _that_ tone… Yeah, Dean had been about ready to get to his knees and rub his face against Cas’ crotch.

Weird how a little observation about the man’s ruggedly good looks and sweet nature could so quickly turn into a filthy infatuation. Well, maybe there was no need to take it _that_ far, Dean was probably just horny and a bit hopped up on adrenaline from the fact that he had been transported into another dimension.

It wasn’t like he was into Cas because he didn’t get into men. He was just interested in being _inside_ Cas, or have him inside Dean, whichever fit the fancy. Yeah, Dean just wanted to bone the man, simple as that.

“Maybe she’s not here?” Cas had whispered just as Dean thought he heard something from the room at the end of the hall. “Maybe she was never here?”

As it had turned out, Mad Mary was very much there and she hadn’t appreciated two dudes trampling all over her daughter’s room, that was for fucking sure. They’d fled, mostly because there was no point in fighting her now that Dean knew what she was. A ghost, plain and simple, and he hadn’t even needed an EMF meter to find her, she was quite clearly visible and not interested in the least in listening to him.

“What now?” Castiel had asked as they stopped in the overgrown backyard, hands on their knees as they panted to catch their breaths.

“Was—” damn Dean was out of shape. “Was she buried?”

Castiel had nodded and straightened to look up at one of the windows that faced the backyard, Dean hadn’t even had to look to know she had been glaring out at them. Even though it had been a nice and sunny day he had felt chills go down his spine.

“The big cemetery, just east of town, where everyone is buried.”

“That’s nice,” Dean had cleared his throat to get phlegm out of it. “Then tonight we get to digging her up. Gotta salt and burn her body.”

Castiel had looked scandalized and Dean had prepared for a tirade of religious arguments. “And that will allow her to rest?”

“Yeah,” Dean had straightened too but when he looked up she had been gone. “As long as she’s not tied to anything else she’ll pass on peacefully once we burn her.”

“And if she is? Tied to something else?”

“Then we torch the house.”

Castiel had surprised Dean by smiling slightly. “Let’s hope it doesn’t come to that, I have an inkling father would disapprove.”

“So breaking and entering is fine but arsony is not?” Dean had laughed when Castiel’s smile grew. “Just tryin’ to find the line so I can skate on the right side.”

For example, would fucking Lord Star’s “baby boy” be on the wrong side of that line? It seemed like that question was getting more and more important and fucking hell, Dean hadn’t even been by Cas’ side for a week yet. It was bound to be a long month...

 

*********

 

When they eventually got back from digging up Mrs. Steely, burning her, restoring the grave, and going to the house to see that she was really gone, both Dean and Cas were sore and dirtied. In hindsight they should have brought someone with them but Dean was so used to it being just him and Sam in the dead of night that it hadn’t occurred to him to wake anyone else when he and Cas eventually snuck out of the keep and down to the graveyard.

As it was he was kind of happy for that. Hunting with Cas was proving to be super fun and Dean liked to pretend Cas hadn’t suggested they bring anyone else because he wanted to be alone with Dean. Sure seemed like that when Cas suggested they use the communal bath down in the basement even though it was well past midnight when they got back.

“You sure it’s okay?” Dean mumbled as they walked down the narrow corridors and steep steps to get to the pools built to facilitate the underground hot springs under the keep. “Kinda feels like we’re being naughty.”

Cas threw him an amused glance over his shoulder. “I’m sure someone could ask questions if we are caught but what of it? The bathhouse is for the use of everyone in the keep at any time, and we even have a private room.”

“We” being the Star family, Dean was sure. And yes, Dean was sure that it was okay for them to take a bath, he had after all shared several with the soldiers over the course of these last few days. Dean was glad for the cleanliness of this dimension, that was for fucking sure. No it was rather the time of day — or night, as it were — that he was questioning.

“This is fucking sweet,” he mumbled, smiling to himself. “I was dreading having to go to bed dirty.”

“Indeed,” Castiel answered in that rumbly tone of his and okay, _maybe_ there was another thing that made Dean slightly on edge right now.

And that was, of course, that he would be alone and buck naked with Cas. Because Dean’s mind was in the gutter and there wasn’t much he was able to do about that.

He considered keeping his underwear on but knew that would draw more attention because no one so far in the whole fucking keep had any modesty when it came to bath time. Well, the women had a separate room from the men, but that was basically the only thing.

And truth be told it wasn’t even a problem, normally, because Dean wasn’t a horndog who got a boner every time he looked at a naked body but with Cas it was just… well it felt fucking different. Because despite the man’s kind demeanor and bulky clothes, Cas was actually kind of toned. Not muscly but just… nice. He had a nice body.

Dean had gauged as much before, in a more abstract I’m-hot-for-his-face-so-his-body-is-fine-however-it-looks kind of way but tonight, when they had been digging up Mrs. Steely’s grave… yeah, Cas had looked fucking powerful was all Dean was getting at and he wanted to see more and simultaneously didn’t trust himself if he did see much more.

And now he was moments away from seeing it all. Fuck Dean felt nervous.

Because let’s face it, if he fucked up with Cas it wouldn’t just be a huge bummer because Cas seemed nice and deserved nice and maybe Dean wanted to be a part of that niceness. But if he fucked up with Cas he also endangered his stay here in this world-dimension-whatever, and possibly his way of getting home, since Dean would be meeting the Ravens on the Stars’ terms.

As soon as they entered the Star family’s private bath many of his concerns dissolved. Fucking hell, this place was beautiful. The communal bath was dark and poorly lit, which created its own kind of ambiance, Dean supposed. But in here the walls were tiled with dark shades of blue and the pools themselves were sunken into the floor and tiled in lighter blue.

The work was kind of crude, to Dean’s more modern aesthetic eye, but it was fucking breath-taking compared to the other bath. He stood for a while, just kind of gaping like an idiot while Cas went about lighting big blocks of candles. So yeah, it would be kind of dark in here too and with only candle light it gave a kind of romantic feeling but Dean wasn’t complaining in the least. Hell, if anything this just made him feel better about being naked around Cas.

Until the man started undressing and Dean’s tongue glued to the roof of his mouth. Fuck, Cas was gorgeous, and so _unashamed_. He just shucked off his clothes and threw them on a bench by the door and walked right into the water. Which, okay, he probably didn’t think this felt romantic or sexy at all and that was fair, this was after all his normal bathing ritual or whatever.

But damn, Dean couldn’t unglue his eyes from Cas’ perfect fucking ass. Could bounce a coin off that, just saying…

“Dean?”

He snapped to attention at Cas’ questioning tone. “Yeah? You good? You need anything before I get back to the other room?”

Yeah, no way would he be able to stay in here and act normal.

“What are you talking about?” Cas laughed and started washing off his arms, standing in the pool so that the water reached his hips and _barely_ covered his dick. Which, for the fucking record, was a very shapely dick. Just. _Saying_. “You can bathe in here with me, no one’s going to know and even if they did,” he shrugged and turned away to pick up what was clearly one of those hard soaps Dean had seen and used out in the other bath too. “It’s my bath to share with whom I wish. And we did just vanquish a ghost, we deserve to indulge.”

Dean’s eyes nearly budged out. Was Cas really saying what Dean thought he was saying?

“Cas…”

“Come on, I’ll wash your back.”

Oh. So no, probably. Or… Dean looked at Cas and his innocent little smile and open arms. Nah, he was just asking if Dean wanted help with washing up. Platonically.

 _“Super,”_ Dean thought and started taking off his own clothes, depositing them on the same bench as Cas. “That’s fine Cas, I can manage on my own.”

“Okay.”

When Dean started walking into the water, the warmth of it was such a blessing that he almost forgot about Cas and his stupidly hot body and rough voice and perfect lips. Almost. Because dang, the man was seriously staring and Dean was beginning to fear there was something wrong. Maybe he shouldn’t have gone in the water after all? Or was it the anti-possession tattoo on his chest? Did ink freak Cas out?

Cas turned away with a slight flush on his cheeks but that could be attributed to the warm water, steaming around them, so Dean decided to not care about that. He tried to suppress his own awareness because he wasn’t really body-shy, and instead he walked out to the deeper end and dunked his head, scrubbing his hair quickly.

When he emerged and wiped the water out of his face he found Cas staring openly at him. Smiling at the man earned him a smile back and Cas handed him the soap before fetching a new one for himself. They washed for a while, Dean drifting closer even though he shouldn’t, like a fucking moth to a flame. He ended up in the shallower end, the water just about touching his balls and he felt aware of the fact only because he caught Cas looking at least twice. Huh.

“Dean, can I ask you a personal question?”

Oh here it was, Dean steeled himself. The tattoo, Dean’s various scars, Dean’s past, where Dean was from, why he wouldn’t part with his clothes even though the were weird as fuck in this world. If Dean lost his jacket he would lose the only place he felt was safe enough for his car keys, phone, and wallet, and the thought freaked him out. Didn’t mean it wasn’t time to wash more than just his socks and undies, though… fucking ectoplasm got in everywhere.

“Sure, Cas.”

“Why don’t you… um,” when he looked up he saw Cas pointedly _not_ looking at him all of a sudden and holy shit, he had never heard Cas mumble or lose his words before. How… how delicious.

“Why what, Cas?” he asked, voice definitely lowered because damn, he couldn’t help himself. Even his dick was taking an interest, tingling like it did right before he started getting hard. Like an itch he wanted nothing more than to scratch.

“Why don’t you have any hair around your privates?” Cas blurted then and completely caught Dean off guard. “Is it a medical condition?”

Dean’s mind stalled for a moment and then he burst out laughing, he even dunked the water with his fist like a complete moron.

“I have hair, little Lord,” he grinned and gripped his dick playfully, slapping the water surface with it just because he could but shit, better not pull too much. Yeah, he knew he liked attentive eyes on his dick but calm down, soldier. “I just shaved it.”

“Shaved? Down _there_?”

Well it was growing out now, past that itchy and prickly stage, but it was still too short and light to be seen in this light, apparently.

“Yeah,” Dean grinned and continued washing himself, sitting down on the ledge that ran around the pool so that his crotch was fully submersed. “It feels nice.”

Cas’ brow was adorably scrunched. “To have no hair? That feels… nice?”

Dean smirked. “During sex,” he clarified and enjoyed how Cas’ ears definitely heated. “Like, with other people and when I masturbate, y’know?” he kind of hoped Cas did know because while virgins were hot they tended to be softer and Dean liked it rough with dudes. Although he supposed that soft with someone like Cas would be pretty fucking sweet too. Just saying that Cas was probably a gay virgin and Dean thought that might enough to handle.

Not that they were going to have sex or anything. Just… yeah.

Cas cleared his throat. “What difference does it make? It’s not like the hair is on the part that matters,” he suddenly looked uncertainly at Dean. “Right?”

“Are you asking if my cockhead is hairy?” Dean asked, breathless from laughing at the image. “No, Cas,” he grinned and felt his chest tighten when Cas smiled shyly back at him. “I mean, there’s some on the balls yeah? But otherwise I’m like you.”

“Only you shave it.”

“Yeah,” Dean looked at Cas with glinting eyes. “You should try it,” his eyes raked up and down Cas’ body before he could stop himself and damn, he really liked what he saw. Cas straightened a little and turned to face him completely. “I could help you.”

Wow, what a stupid fucking thing to suggest but also, yes please. Dean had to start working up some suds just to have something to hide his suddenly very interested dick under.

“Maybe,” Cas cleared his throat, obviously aware of how growly it had gotten, and Dean wanted to tell him not to mind it. Wanted to tell him he liked how it sounded. “Maybe another time.”

Oh hell yes, that wasn’t a definite no. Dean grinned up at Cas. “I’m yours to command, Milord.”

 

 

Yeah there was no fucking way Dean wasn’t jerking off after that bath. Quick and dirty and in the privacy of his awesome manservant room. Only a wall and flimsy wooden door separated him and Cas and Dean came hard biting his own arm imagining Cas hearing his strangled panting and getting aroused by his own fantasies.

 

 


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yay new chapter! XD  
> FYI, next week I’ll be going on a small vacation and won’t be able to post on Thursday. I’ll try to have chapter 5 up on Saturday or Sunday instead (the 18th or 19th) but can’t make any promises. Worst case scenario we’ll do a double post the week after, but we’ll see :D
> 
> Love you lots!

 

 

Castiel felt strange several days after his and Dean’s ghost hunt and subsequent bath. He refused to attribute his restlessness to the masturbating he had done after he had gotten back to his room and instead told himself it was because he felt weirded out by the fact that Mad Mary’s ghost had been real all these years. That she had suffered for so long and no one had done anything about it or barely even noticed.

Castiel was with Dean when he explained to father what he had done. At Castiel’s request Dean had left him out of the story, at least partially, making it sound as if Castiel had given Dean all the details of the story and then left, right about around the time when Dean had wanted Castiel to leave for real. Only he had stayed and Dean had praised him after, something that made Castiel feel warm to remember.

Father had just looked at the two of them, his gaze knowing, and Castiel knew the lie was for naught but it didn’t matter. Father was happy with the outcome and already the same day he commissioned carpenters to start fixing the house. People were still vary of it but father said it would pass, the more time the carpenters spent in the house without incident, the more people would come to see that it was only wood and stone now, waiting to be filled with love once again. It was a lovely thought, Castiel felt.

They spent the coming days after the ghost hunt mostly just “hanging out” as Dean called it, by which he meant they spent time in each others’ company and Castiel found it highly enjoyable. Dean had a kind of crude humor but it felt surprisingly refreshing and Castiel often found himself laughing out loud, unexpectedly and happily and not something he had done since he was a child.

During that time Castiel learned a lot about Dean the person, but not really about Dean’s life or home. He didn’t want to pry but couldn’t help but feel as if Dean was hiding something, maybe something about his hunter work. Whatever it was it felt like something that grew between them but Castiel felt determined not to let it hamper their time together.

So when Dean directed his questions back to topics about Castiel’s life or town or experiences he simply let it happen, glad enough to be talking to Dean at all.

They explored most of the town and the areas immediately surrounding it during these days and Castiel loved how impressed Dean was with the water system their engineers had worked out for their rice fields. Or that they had rice fields at all, as if that was something to be impressed about.

“You don’t have fields like this?” Castiel had asked when Dean had just gaped.

“I mean sure, like wheat and stuff…” he had mumbled and Castiel had nodded, pointing to the south.

“That’s on the other side of town.”

“What the hell?” Dean had muttered, scraping a hand over his mouth like Castiel had noted he did when he was thinking hard. “Guess the climate here is really different.”

“From your country?”

“Yeah,” Dean had grinned and Castiel had gotten a little thrill, thinking he would finally be rewarded with information about Dean’s home. “So tell me more about this water work you’ve got going, I’ve been curious about it ever since you showed it to me the first time.”

Castiel had only been partially disappointed as he himself was quite interested in the mechs.

 

 

It was a ten-day exactly since Dean’s arrival that Jonah came back from a diplomatic colloquium with a neighboring country and father decided that that was a perfect reason to throw a small feast. Castiel for his part knew his father was just fond of feasting in general, as his big pot belly was evidence enough of, but Dean seemed intrigued so that made Castiel more invested than usual.

“You seem livelier at the prospect of this feast than me, little brother,” Jonah said with a grin when they later in the evening got a moment alone. Jonah looked weary from travel but otherwise good, like a man who was happy to finally be home and with his wife and family.

“In a sense, perhaps,” Castiel couldn’t help but smile down at his hands. He was sitting in a plush armchair in Jonah’s private quarters, waiting for his brother to change out of his travel clothes. “Dean seems very excited, I guess that makes me excited as well.”

“The man’s smiles do seem contagious,” Jonah answered with a glint in his eye. He started unbuttoning his shirt and Castiel thought it was interesting how both Star son’s refused help from their manservants when it came to things like dressing themselves. Although Castiel supposed Jonah’s wife Sequoia usually did it for him in a manservant’s stead and she probably would have this time too, if she hadn’t been occupied with her own preparations for the evening dinner.

“Just wait until you talk to him properly,” Castiel looked up, excited. “He’s so _different_ , I’ve never met a man like him. And did father tell you about what happened to me on my way home from Robert’s, how Dean saved us?”

“He did,” Jonah was still smiling a little, for some reason. “He also told me about Dean’s work and how he has been training the soldiers.”

“Yes, it’s going very well,” Castiel felt comfortably warm when he thought about Dean teaching them about the ways of a hunter. “He really has a way with words, the soldiers seem completely enraptured with him.”

“Captain Rutherford rode out to meet me,” Jonah said and went over to the small basin with water he kept on his nightstand to splash his face with. “He only had good things to say as well.”

“I’m sure,” Castiel agreed fondly. “Dean and the captain work very well together. Oh, and you should have seen Dean when I took him down to pick out his own weapon in the armory. He was like a child on End Year’s festival.”

Jonah was clearly trying to contain his smile and Castiel didn’t know why, there was nothing humorous about his words, was there?

“He sure seems like an interesting man. Father said he was here to investigate the Hornet Rocks?”

“Yes,” Castiel nodded, slumping down a little when he thought about that. Dean would possibly leave as soon as he got the information he needed and Castiel didn’t like to think about that. “He’s waiting for the Ravens to come, so he can talk to them. He’s just staying here until then, I suppose.”

“And helping out with bodyguarding you and teaching the soldiers as a way to repay father’s hospitality, I hear?” Jonah chose a somewhat simple outfit for tonight, clearly saving his nicer clothes for the upcoming feast. “Father was quite vexed about that.”

“Yes,” Castiel smiled down at his hands again, feeling warmth blossom in his chest. “Dean didn’t feel it appropriate to be rewarded for his work, he does it because it’s the right thing to do, not for treasure.”

“Still, he saved a Lord’s son.”

“Which is why he’s allowed to sleep in the keep, he has Olaf’s old room.”

That made Jonah laugh. “So he’s more your manservant than your bodyguard, then? Except you refuse manservants as vehemently as I do.”

“Yes, I guess you could call Dean my company, on the times his work as a hunter doesn’t pull him from my side.”

“So he’s your lady-in-waiting,” Jonah teased, clearly pleased with the jest but Castiel’s mind filled unbidden with images of strong, manly Dean in frill and he felt a swoop in his stomach, almost as if he had been about to fall off a high cliff.

“Don’t tell him that,” he managed to press out so as not to arouse suspicion and judging by Jonah’s hearty laugh he had succeeded. But oh, Castiel needed to think about what that swoop had been about, needed time to gather his wits before he saw Dean again and—

A knock on the door to Jonah’s quarters ripped Castiel from his spiralling thoughts and of course when Jonah went to answer the door it was Dean standing on the other side.

“Hey, James told me to tell you the food is about ready,” Dean grinned at Cas when their eyes met, like he usually did and Castiel’s stomach swooped again because… because…

Oh.

“James?”

Castiel pushed himself off the chair, walking somewhat stiffly over to the two men. “Gerard, the head butler. Dean calls him James for some reason.”

“Because he really looks like he can throw a punch,” Dean clarified as if that clarified anything. Judging by his widened grin he knew that it didn’t and enjoyed watching the brothers’ confused faces. “Anyway, dinner.”

Jonah nodded. “A moment.”

Castiel joined Dean outside the room as Jonah finished dressing, simply because he suddenly couldn’t stand to be away from the man. They stood in silence and Castiel couldn’t help but stare at Dean. Unlike everyone else who caught Castiel staring at them Dean didn’t snap at him to stop or otherwise seem miffed. Either he just caught Castiel’s eyes and held them until Castiel felt satisfied and finished or he let Castiel stare in peace, looking out into space himself.

Castiel didn’t know which one he liked the best but was thankful for the latter right now, his thoughts so jumbled he thought Dean would be able to see them written plainly on his face. A thought that both scared and intrigued him.

 

 

* * *

 

 

Damn these motherfuckers could drink. Dean took two shots of that petroleum whisky and about a pint of ale and he was ready to blow the roof off this house while everyone else seemed to be “in their spirits” as the servants called it. Sure, they were getting drunk as fuck too but _damn_ …

And why was it hot that Cas could drink like he had been brought up nursing ale? Why was anything about the man hot? Question of the fucking century, that one. From what Dean had gleaned over the last _long_ week, Cas seemed very loved by his family but woefully without close friends. Most from what Dean had heard was in the range of Cas being a nice, likable guy, but that he was also pretty boring. And honestly, Dean didn’t think that could be further from the truth.

He thought Cas was a fucking blast, he was so goddamn _eager_ to know about new stuff, and Dean thought that was really where the problem lay. People around here were content, in their lives and with their lot, Cas was not and that contrasted hugely with everyone around him. He wanted _more_ , but didn’t know what that more was about, and the people here wanted him happy but knew even less what _more_ would be. Dean supposed that fostered frustration, at least for the people closest to Cas.

“I wish his mother was still alive,” Lord Star had complained to Dean just the other day. “She connected better with Cassie.”

“Do you think he’s unhappy?” Dean barely knew why he cared but he did care, damnit.

“I do,” Lord Star had sighed and looked out the window to his right, looking pensive. “I think he needs to get away, spread his wings…”

“Is that why you haven’t married him yet?” Dean had asked because he fucking _had to_ ask.

With every day the need to kiss Cas increased and he needed to know if he had a fucking shot or not. To hell with him leaving soon, if there was a chance he could sex up the dorky little lord he fucking wanted to. He knew he _shouldn’t_ but oh how he wanted. And maybe, his Lord father hadn’t married Cas because he knew something about his boy’s _inclinations_ …

“It is,” Lord Star had answered and crushed Dean’s hope. Really, “inclinations”, what had he even been thinking? He’d looked at Dean’s dick _once_. “He has always longed for an adventure, ever since he was young. I always thought he would grow out of it but it’s become worse. I don’t wish for him to wed only to wither away in a loveless marriage. It wouldn’t be fair to him or his wife.”

“Maybe find him a suitable wife?” Dean had suggested, unsure why he was even having this goddamn conversation anymore. “One who likes to travel? Maybe he won’t feel stifled then? I mean, I guess it’s not all that Lord-like but he’s the younger son, right? So,” he had shrugged, suddenly aware of Lord Star’s heavy gaze. Guess Cas had to have inherited it from someone…

“A wife who travels, you say?” Lord Star had mumbled, clearly contemplating _something_ and Dean had been glad when the head butler had interrupted them to call them to the evening’s dinner.

“I’ll get Cas,” Dean had grinned and bounded out of the room before anyone could stop him.

Now, two days later, they were in the midst of partying and Dean was clearly drunk enough that most of his inhibitions flew out the window. And fuck, he should stop drinking or he would make a fool of himself. Right now he was in that kind of happy state, singing along to songs he didn’t know and joking around, and he would like to stay here and not blow right into dancing-on-the-tables drunk.

Although judging by how some people behaved dancing on the table might not be such a weird thing around here…

“Jonah seems happy to be home,” Cas said then, drawing Dean’s attention when he grinned with his whole face like some kind of sex god. Wait, that didn’t even make sense…

Dean put down his flagon of ale and didn’t even look when Cas indicated his brother making out with his wife on the other side of the room. Yeah, Jonah kind of looked like Cas so it was sexy as hell seeing him kiss someone, especially someone as cute as Sequoia, but Dean was much more interested in the real Cas.

“Are _you_ happy?” he slurred. Yeah, he should find himself some soda to drink—damnit! Maybe water…? Dean hadn’t dared touch the water here yet, not to drink, for fear of what his stomach would say but honestly, after everything he’d eaten so far without incident he supposed he was safe on that account.

Cas turned to him, still smiling. “I have to admit I’m getting a bit inebriated.”

Dean’s eyes rounded out and he swayed in his seat when he leaned forward. “Don’t lie to me, Cas.”

His voice came out all gruff without him meaning to. There was a live band playing some kind of music, he supposed, and people were talking loudly, singing along, someone was shouting in the background and it sounded like there was some kind of ruckus. It was a big fucking, cavernous hall, and the sound travelled. Dean had only meant to make his voice carry over the clamor and Cas’ deep voice did that without problem so that was what he had meant to emulate. Came out sounding like something else, though, and when Cas’ eyes instantly zeroed in on him, Dean didn’t even regret it.

“I’m not,” Cas stated, confidently and in a lower timber.

Dean leaned closer. Cas smelled so fucking good, even with this world’s hygiene, which was better than Dean had feared but still worse than home, Cas smelled clean and musky. Smelled like a man who knew how to take care of himself. Or like a man who could take care of Dean…

Fuck, he should have known having Cas with him on a hunt and then taking a fucking _bath_ with the man would be a bad idea…

“Wanna get outta here?”

Fucking _shit_ , Dean needed to control himself, needed to get a brain-to-mouth filter.

Cas raised his eyebrows and then straightened, looking around them before he nodded. “Sure, come on.”

Oh hell yes, was this happening? Dean paced himself as he followed Cas through the throngs of people and into quieter corridors. He had kind of hoped something would happen in the bath too and nothing had, Cas just didn’t have the same colloquial terms Dean did and Dean needed to remember that.

Cas led him to a balcony, quiet and secluded and Dean was _way_ too drunk to stop his mind from wandering. Cas’ back looked really good, broad and strong, and those fucking thighs…

“This is nice,” Cas sighed, leaning on the railing as he looked up at the stars. Was this a fucking rom-com or what the hell was happening? “It _was_ getting a little loud in there.”

“Cas,” Dean had to lean on the railing too, but more to steady himself than anything else. “How come you’re not fucking drunk? I can barely stand up.”

Cas grinned unexpectedly and Dean felt his stomach lurch. Not in a bad way, not at all, but in the way that told him he needed to make a move or some douche would come in and sweep Cas off his feet and that was Dean’s job, damnit. On the other hand, Cas might get mad. Might never talk to Dean again, might throw him out of the keep, might destroy Dean’s chances to talk to the Ravens and thereby his chances to get home, might fucking execute him.

Or he might kiss Dean back.

“I guess I’m a bit more used to the alcohol here? Is it weaker where you come from?”

Oh Cas was clever, Dean had seen through the man’s thinly veiled questions a long time ago, but he still thought Cas was smart in the way he approached Dean. Because it was _so clear_ that he wanted to know about Dean and his home but he was holding back, showing respect. It was so fucking cute Dean wanted to climb Cas like a tree.

Yeah, drinking this much hadn’t been Dean’s best idea…

“I guess,” he tried to grin cockily and he bumped his shoulder against Cas’ just because. “Or maybe _I’m_ the weaker one, huh?”

“I don’t think that’s true at all.”

Okay, Cas needed to watch it with that tone… speaking like Dean was some kind of marvel and shit…

“Nah, I mean, I _can_ drink. I guess I just—”

“I don’t think the ability to drink alcohol has anything to do with strength in the first place,” Cas stated calmly, looking at his hands. “For one, you’re definitely the bravest man I know.”

“You…” fuck, Dean’s whole body was buzzing and he only now realized that they were leaning against one another, shoulders almost glued together. Cas was so warm under his tunic. “You should watch it with that.”

“With what?”

It wasn’t fair how handsome Cas was, all the fucking time. “I just mean,” Dean cleared his throat and looked out over the town below them. “It might give me the wrong idea, okay? Might make me think you feel stuff you don’t.”

“I don’t understand? Feel what kind of things?”

Cas was frowning slightly when Dean looked back at him and shit, Dean was too drunk to not go for it. Besides, that was how he rolled, skating the edges of danger just to feel alive. Only fucking way for a hunter to live anyway.

Cas didn’t shy away when Dean turned to him to lean closer. In fact, he didn’t seem to realize what was happening until Dean cupped his jaw and closed the distance to gently brush his lips against Cas’.

“These kinds, Cas,” he rasped. “Making me think you wouldn’t kill me for wanting you.”

“Dean…”

Dean closed his eyes for a second, leaning his forehead against Cas’ and rubbing his thumbs against the man’s stubble. “Can I have one more?” he begged quietly. “I’m drunk as fuck, probably won’t remember this shit anyway, can I get away with one more kiss without you hating m—”

He made a muffled sound when Cas pulled him into a harsh kiss. Dean was wholly unprepared and their teeth clacked together before they managed to right themselves. Cas’ breathing hitched when Dean moved his mouth against his and Dean moaned a little when he opened up and Cas immediately thrusted his tongue inside.

It was hot, breathtaking, wet, and everything else that Dean’s mind was too unfocused to categorize.

Fuck, they were _kissing_ , pawing at each other, and Dean hadn’t even known how much he’d wanted this. Hell, he had just thought he was a bit attracted and a lot bored, but now that they were on each other he felt as if he had been pining for years.

He whined a little when Cas pulled away and the sound made Cas breathe in sharply and he was instantly back to nip Dean’s lower lip only to kiss him soothingly. Dean let his hands wander to Cas’ flanks and back, pulling him closer so that their knees knocked together while Cas seemed content with cupping Dean’s jaw, stroking his thumb over Dean’s cheekbone and grabbing Dean’s neck with his other hand. Keeping him steady, anchoring him.

And fuck, Dean felt light as air, sure he would have floated away from that goddamn balcony if it hadn’t been for Cas’ steady hands.

 

*********

 

Two days after the feast marked exactly two weeks since Dean had come to this world. Well, two weeks by his estimate, the people here counted weeks in something called ten-days, which was exactly that; ten days. Meaning that a month, which apparently still was 30 days, was actually three weeks for these people. Savages.

Anyway, Dean had done his best these couple of days to act normal around Cas. Wouldn’t want to stir the pot, so to speak. And Cas, for his sake, seemed to be at a loss of what to make of anything. Dean’s behavior at the party, Dean’s behavior after, it all seemed to confuse the poor man and Dean really wanted to explain but he was a fucking coward and that was the truth.

And it was so easy too, to blame it on the alcohol, and he didn’t even do that. Well, he did blame the alcohol, but not for his actions but for making him forget. Fuck, when he’d gone up to Cas all like “what even happened, I barely remember anything from after the dessert?” he thought he’d detected the barest hint of disappointment on Cas’ face but it was gone just as fast and Dean anyhow didn’t want to project his own feelings.

Because yeah, maybe he was a bit disappointed in himself for not just jumping the hurdle but damn, this was a delicate situation and he was damn lucky Cas had taken it as well as he had. And goddamn, he’d taken it so well and then some…

Dean didn’t know if Cas had any experience with men, probably not, but he definitely had experience kissing because holy fucking crap. Dean had totally jerked off as soon as he was alone in his room and then again this morning before he went to get Cas and he wasn’t even sorry for using the man as spank bank material.

What he was sorry for now was the fact that he clearly had hurt Cas by pretending he didn’t remember and it would be weird for him to suddenly remember now, two days later, right? Dean knew he was an idiot and while Cas didn’t pull away from him there was definitely something between them now. At least when they were alone. That goddamn elephant needed to be dealt with and Dean wished he had the emotional maturity to do it because while Cas probably had the maturity he didn’t seem to have the know-how in situations like this.

Dean’s inner turmoil was interrupted later the same day when he and Cas went down into town and happened upon a returning caravan with clearly distressed people.

“What happened?” Cas asked, grabbing one of the drivers by his upper arm. The man halted in his step and Dean was intimately reminded of how strong Cas was. Fucking hell, he was never going to live that kiss down…

“We were attacked, Lord Castiel,” the man answered, tone of voice revealing how scared he still was. “On the road from Allentown.”

“Allentown?” Dean interrupted before he could stop himself. “Who’s the fucking major? Billy Joel?”

Cas frowned in confusion. “No, Sir Grover was given the honor.”

“Sorry,” Dean was such a tool sometimes… “Go on with the report.”

“We should inform Captain Rutherford and the Commander,” another man from the caravan exclaimed and Dean only then noticed that a group was forming around them. “Folks were abducted.”

People from the town were gathering around them, some searching for goods, some for passengers, and some clearly just curious.

“That’s a good idea,” Cas nodded and turned to lead the way, a proper Lord now and Dean couldn’t help how his whole being kind of lifted at the sight.

Cas was such a dorky little dude most of the time, so curious about the world around him, outside his little bubble, and Dean really liked that side of him. Because while Cas behaved like that it was clear from looking at him that he was a man that deserved respect. Hell, he was tall and muscular, was probably better with a sword than Dean, and he was so fucking handsome. And while Dean saw all of that every day, he hadn’t really seen it as clearly as he did in this moment.

The whole crowd just fell in line, from a few words from Cas, and Dean was in fucking awe. No way to sugar coat this shit, Dean was—

“Fucking hell,” he groaned under his breath, trudging along Cas with his head bowed. Leave it to Dean’s stupid ass to get teleported to another reality and fall in love. Fuck his life, really.

 

 

After listening to retelling upon retelling of the attack Dean felt pretty goddamn certain he knew what this was about and though it was sad for this world to also have monsters he couldn’t help but feel a kind of inner peace that some things never changed.

“Those woods have always been unsafe,” Captain Rutherford commented when the last brave person had finally said their piece. “But it seems the attacks have grown over the last month.”

“Are there any caves in the vicinity?”

Everyone in the room turned to stare collectively at Dean. He’d deliberately kept to the back, just listening and observing.

“There are…” the captain started slowly.

“There used to be a mine in the middle of it,” an elderly woman stated and Dean saw several of the older people in the group nodding. “My grandfather worked in it.”

Dean almost sighed. “But it’s abandoned now, I assume?”

“I don’t remember why,” the old woman looked down in thought. “There was a cave in?”

“Yeah,” a stout man agreed. “Three miners got stuck inside, they died.”

“Oh that’s right,” the old woman looked up and Dean thought he already knew where this was headed. “But only two bodies were found, mutilated.”

“That fits,” Dean nodded and straightened, walking up to the table where Captain Rutherford had spread out a map showing the road from the aptly named Vale Town, capitol of the Vale, to this Allentown. “And the attack was here, close to the woods?”

“It’s always been there,” the captain stated, eyeing Dean with uncertainty. “Every time a caravan comes back and reports and attack we’ve always assumed road bandits.”

“Right, because they can hide in the woods,” Dean nodded and couldn’t help but smile a little when the captain squinted at him, the old man clearly catching on that Dean didn’t think it was bandits. “And have you ever found them? Or any sign of them.”

“None,” the captain answered truthfully.

“And these reports,” Dean turned to the people in the room, indicating them with a wave of his hand. “Of something moving faster than the eye could catch, voices in the woods that had no place being there. Have those reports come with every attack?”

Captain Rutherford remained quiet, looking thoughtfully down at the map.

“They have,” Cas answered after a moment. “Every time. Do you,” he stepped up to Dean, putting a hand on his arm. “Do you know what this is?”

“I might, but I need to investigate first. How far away are these woods?”

“Two day’s hard ride,” the captain answered, straightening. “But it wouldn’t do to tire out the horses, especially since Allentown is another day’s ride away.”

“No,” Dean mumbled, already trying to recall everything he needed to know. Damn he missed Sammy’s brain right now. “And I suppose we don’t want to stay the night in the woods.”

“No,” Cas looked mortified and Dean couldn’t help but smile at him. “No one does that, Dean. It’s too dangerous, I forbid…”

“You forbid it?” Dean couldn’t help but grin but immediately got self-conscious of all the people staring at him. “It’s fine Cas, I know ways to protect myself. But if I’m right about this I guess I could use some help.”

“Of course,” Captain Rutherford pulled a quill and parchment closer. “Whatever you need.”

“Men, horses, and fire. Lots of fire.”

Dean almost startled when the elderly woman grabbed his sleeve. “Are you really going after what’s in there? It’s dangerous.”

“But you could help with it?” it was a man Dean’s age, eyes bright as he looked at Dean and the captain. “You could rid the woods of the monster so we could go in there and not be afraid anymore?”

“It’s not a monster,” Captain Rutherford said placatingly even though Dean was pretty fucking sure the captain knew by now that it probably was. His words fell on deaf ears, though.

“If you can help, I wanna help you too.”

“No civilians,” the captain stated gruffly and Dean wanted to both agree and disagree but left the decision up to Cas and Captain Rutherford.

“I can help,” Dean grinned. “It’s my job. Don’t worry, me and the captain’s boys are gonna figure this out. But for safety’s sake, better not travel that road until we say so, okay?”

The crowd agreed without argument and Dean marveled at having this kind of influence. Hell, he was starting to like this place more than just because of Cas. Speaking of, the man still had his hand on Dean’s arm and he was keenly aware of the touch, like a brand on his soul he never wanted to wash off.

He turned to Cas with a smile, probably too intimate for how public they were right now. “Don’t worry, Cas.”

“I can’t help it. Please let me come with you.”

“No fucking way,” Dean’s smile grew when he saw in the corner of his eye how Captain Rutherford stiffened for a second, probably confused how someone could talk like that to the young Lord. “I’ll worry too much about your safety.”

“I helped with Mad Mary.”

“And you were awesome,” Dean put his hand over Cas’. “But this one is tougher, leave it to the professionals for now, okay? I’ll be fine, saving people and hunting things, it’s kinda what I do.”

Cas nodded, lips pressed tightly together. “Okay. I’ll hold you to that.”

Fuck, Dean wanted to kiss Cas in this moment. He was so fucking screwed. He _needed_ to do something about that fucking elephant that kept taking up the whole room… Well, nothing like a little Wendigo hunt to clear the head, right?

 

 


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi y’all, I’m back! A little bit later than I had planned but better late than never, I’d say (I mean, _planes_ , amirite?). Anyway, please forgive the delay and let’s without further ado have some Wendigo hunting and some Destiel bathing, possibly in that order. Sound good? Good! XD

 

 

Dean pulled too harshly on the reins, making his horse rear back a little but at least the beast stopped. Riding had never really been Dean’s thing but after over two days on horseback he thought he was getting the hang on it. His horse was a trustworthy thing, at least.

“Easy now, Bojack,” he mumbled and petted the horse’s mane as he waited for the little party of soldiers to join him and Jon. They’d ridden ahead a little because Dean wanted to get a look of the layout before he made any decisions. They still had plenty of daylight left, having broken camp at stupid o’clock in the morning. “This the forest?”

Jon nodded, looking grim enough to seem twice his age. “See how the road winds close to it?”

“Yeah, perfect for an ambush,” Dean muttered.

Captain Rutherford sidled up to him just then, the rest of the party not far behind. Bojack didn’t even bat an eye. Steady, this one.

“How’s it looking?”

“Same as usual, Captain,” Jon reported and Dean couldn’t help but smile a little at the kid’s enthusiasm. Fuck he hoped this would go well.

“So what’s the plan, Sir Dean?”

So far only Cas had stopped calling him that and Dean hadn’t bothered correcting people since the first few days. It seemed the “sir” was added more as an honorific, just to make sure to mark Dean as a special fighter even though he didn’t have an official title.

“We get a bit closer and then leave the horses, no sense in taking them into the underbrush anyway, it’ll just slow us down and we’re gonna be enough of a target anyway.”

“So we go in now?”

Dean grimaced. “Night or day doesn’t matter for the Wendigo, but daylight will serve us better.”

The captain nodded solemnly. “You lead us and we’ll follow, the way to the mine should be clear enough, even after all these years.”

Dean nodded too, deep in thought as they spurred on the horses again. Most probably the Wendigo had the two men, Alfred and Roy, trapped in the mine. He was trying to remember everything he knew about Wendigos and how to best take them down. Honestly, that one time he torched one seemed kind of far away now and had most probably just been pure luck. But then again, this time they were better prepared, trained soldiers with loads of torches. Not as effective as blowtorches but it would have to do and Dean still had a few tricks up his sleeve.

They tied the horses to some bushes at the edge of the woods, sturdy enough that the horses wouldn’t wander off but weak enough that they could tear away if they needed to flee in fear. Most probably the Wendigo wouldn’t be interested in horse flesh but Dean recalled them as being intelligent monsters and would perhaps see the horses as a way for the humans to escape. If Dean was the Wendigo here he would definitely attack the animals.

“Are you sure there’s only one Wendigo?” Pete, one of the soldiers, asked as he helped Dean tie up Bojack. The word sounded foreign coming from the man and Dean couldn’t help but smile a little.

“Yeah, they’re solitary creatures, which was kinda what got them in trouble from the beginning.”

“I remember,” Pete mumbled, clearly as uncomfortable with the whole background story now as he had been when Dean first had told it. Probably shouldn’t have done it around the campfire at night but the soldiers had asked. “What about our chances of finding Alfred and Roy?”

“Finding them at all? I’d say good enough,” Dean sighed and went to snap a twig off the nearest bush. “Finding them both alive might be another matter. But Wendigos usually keep their prey alive for a while, keeps the meat fresh.”

“Are you saying we could have saved all those people who have been reported missing over the years?” Dill looked positively grief-stricken when Dean looked up. “One of those was my wife’s brother.”

Damn, Dean shouldn’t have opened his big mouth. No one but Captain Rutherford had known about that particular piece of information.

“Don’t beat yourself up, man,” Dean said kindly. “Chances are you would’ve been killed too, this thing is fucking dangerous.”

“Yes, let’s huddle up, men,” Captain Rutherford waved in all five soldiers and they gathered around Dean. Seven guys against one Wendigo, a goddamn army if you asked Dean. No chance of sneaking up on the beast here…

“Okay,” Dean tapped his twig against his thigh. “We’re leaving the horses here, I’m gonna draw some Anasazi symbols in a protective circle around them and hopefully that’ll keep the Wendigo away. Remember that this asshole is quick as fuck and it _can_ mimic voices so, Dave,” he turned to a squat man with a potato nose. “I know you know Alfred personally, _don’t_ go running off if you think you hear his voice. It’s most probably the Wendigo trying to lure you away.”

“Right,” Dave agreed, his voice surprisingly high for such a robust man.

“And everyone will walk with torches, don’t lose them,” the captain filled in. “We’ll also prepare a few of those—what did you call them?”

“Molotov cocktails,” Dean grinned briefly. “Those are gonna be effective as hell but don’t go throwing them unless you think you have a clear shot.”

The cook at the keep had complained loudly when Dean had commissioned almost all of the whisky but Lord Star had stood behind Dean’s decision so it had worked out really well in the end. The men all nodded and Dean was starting to feel good about this. There was strength in numbers after all, and all the soldiers had armor on so that would probably help them some. Hell, if they were lucky enough the Wendigo would even be asleep right now.

“Is that all?”

Dean nodded at the captain’s question. “You go ahead and unload the torches and everything and I’ll draw the symbols for the hor—”

“Did you hear that?”

They all pause when Dave interrupted Dean, heads cocking as they listened intently for a moment.

“I don’t think—”

Captain Rutherford never finished that sentence, interrupted when the Wendigo slammed into him, using its superhuman speed to completely overthrow the seasoned soldier, knocking the air out of his lungs as he fell face-first into the dirt.

“The torches!” Dean roared and found himself the next target. Fuck, the Wendigo was uglier and bigger than he remembered the last one being and his stomach lurched uncomfortably at the sight.

He took a hit and fell to the ground as well, spitting and swearing but he didn’t get a chance to regain his barings before the Wendigo landed right next to him with a dull thud. Dean whipped around, rolling to his back so that he could kick off the monster’s clawed hands. The Wendigo growled, startling Bojack who had been tearing at his reins and next Dean knew the horse kicked out with his powerful hind legs.

The Wendigo let out a roar when it was hit and Dean took the opportunity to roll to his feet. He met its eyes when it turned its attention back to him, revenge clear in its crazed gaze.

 

 

* * *

 

 

Wendigo, that was what Dean had called the monster he’d set out to hunt six days ago. Castiel didn’t know why but he had been a mess since he watched Dean ride out with Captain Rutherford, accompanied by both Dill and Jon, and no less than three other soldiers. Dean had complained it was too many but father had insisted along with Commander Tollard and Castiel was grateful for it.

“They’ll return in a jiffy,” father had said, clapping Castiel on his shoulder before taking his leave.

Castiel had remained on the balcony from which he had watched the soldiers depart. Coincidentally it was the same balcony as the one he had kissed Dean on but Castiel had tried very hard not to think about that particular event as it only seemed to make his state of worry feel worse, for some reason.

“How long?” Castiel had murmured when he was alone with his big brother.

Jonah had been silent for a moment. “Say they find and kill the thing easily enough, I’d say around five to seven days.”

Too long, Castiel had thought. So much of his time with Dean would be sucked away and he felt selfish because this was an important mission but he rather wished the hunter had stayed at the keep. He was sure Dean wouldn’t stay much longer after he’d talked to the Ravens, maybe he would even depart on the same day, and that would mean he would leave on the next full moon. But Castiel couldn’t afford to think like that. What Dean did was important work, this time more than ever.

“I hope the abducted people are okay.”

“I’m sure they are, Sir Dean seemed confident that the creature wouldn’t kill them immediately.”

Two women had emerged at the end of the meeting, telling gruesome tales of their men trying to fight the monster off so the caravan could escape unharmed. That had put a certain urgency to the whole operation, in Captain Rutherford’s mind, and Dean had taken the rest of the day to quickly educate his chosen group on Wendigos before preparations had begun.

Castiel had been listening, enraptured, and wished he could have come with them.

“I’ll return now, before Sequoia wakes,” Jonah had mumbled after a silent moment and Castiel had just waved him off, knowing he wouldn’t be able to sleep now anyway. No he would remain for hours on that balcony, and come back many times during the many days before Dean’s return, an ache in his chest he couldn’t explain and didn’t dare voice.

Now, late on the sixth day’s evening, an outrider had returned with the news the whole keep and town alike had waited anxiously for. And damn good decorum to hell, Castiel was one of the first to go down to the gates, front row and with a worried expression on his face.

A crowd gathered as they waited and more than one greeted him but most kept their distance. Castiel was used to it though, and anyhow not in the least interested in the curious and worried townsfolk. Jonah joined him just as the darkness of night had enveloped them completely. People were lighting torches and talking in a calmer manner than Castiel could attest to.

“You should have told me you would be going down here,” Jonah stated with such mirth Castiel knew his brother had already known he would be going to meet the soldiers. “Father asked for you.”

“Where is he?”

“Waiting with the commander for the report,” Jonah answered as he and his closest guard joined Castiel. “Sequoia wanted to come too but I convinced her to stay with father.”

“You should have let her come if she was concerned.”

Jonah gave him a slanted smile. “Isn’t this better? This way you’ll get to have Dean all alone.”

“What do you mean with that?” Castiel didn’t even have it in himself to blush, it was the truth after all.

“Just that Sequoia is completely fascinated with the man but there is really no need for Sir Dean to join the captain for the report.”

“There might be,” Castiel murmured but in actuality he was thankful for his brother’s words.

He didn’t know what his feelings were about but he knew he had to get Dean alone to make sure he was okay and that he didn’t want anyone disturbing that. He blamed the kiss, and the fact that they hadn’t been able to discuss it later.

The brothers stood in silence for a moment longer before the night guard in the tower next to the gates announced riders in the distance.

“Don’t wring your hands, you _are_ a Lord’s son, after all.”

Jonah’s tone was altogether too amused to make Castiel stop. “What if something happened? These are men we have grown up with, not to mention those poor abducted men. Their wives are here, aren’t they?”

“ _Not to mention_ , Sir Dean,” Jonah was grinning when Castiel turned to him.

“Please don’t make fun of me, I don’t feel well.”

Jonah’s smile slid off and he put a steady hand on Castiel’s shoulder. “It’s going be to fine, little brother.”

Castiel chose to believe him because to oppose would be too painful in this moment. And then suddenly there was no time anymore anyhow because the soldiers came thundering through the gates, some continuing past the gathered crowd in their haste. They reared up a few feet in and turned around, trotting back, while the rear of the party came inside and it was clear on the soldiers’ faces that they hadn’t expected to be met like this.

“Did something happen, my Lords?”

Both Jonah and Castiel turned their heads up when Captain Rutherford addressed them, his horse sweaty and foaming but still calm, as befit a warhorse.

“ _You_ happened,” Jonah laughed, elated. “We’re waiting for you and news of the events of the last days.”

“Cas?”

Everyone else melted into the background when Dean appeared, clumsily halting his horse next to the captain.

“Dean, you’re here.”

Castiel could see Captain Rutherford and Jonah look at him, perhaps with raised eyebrows, perhaps with questioning or knowing gazes, but in this moment he didn’t care one bit. Because there was Dean and he looked dirty from travelling, bloodied in some places, the knee on his pants ripped on the right leg. But he was grinning and beautiful and Castiel almost wanted to cry as he hurried over to the man.

“Of course I am, told you I’d be fine,” Dean kept grinning and when Castiel put a hand on the man’s leg, Dean covered it with his own hand. “It’s not my blood.”

It was as if Dean could read Castiel’s jumbled mind and it made Castiel feel so safe he almost sagged against Dean’s tired horse.

“Let’s go back to the keep.”

“Sure,” Dean grabbed Castiel’s hand and pulled a little. “Hop on, we’ll join the cap and your brother.”

Castiel only then noticed that most of the crowd had dispersed and that Jonah had jumped on Captain Rutherford’s horse and ridden ahead. As soon as Castiel was seated behind Dean he wrapped his arms around the man and buried his nose against Dean’s sweaty neck.

“Let’s leave the captain to do the report, I need to…” he pulled in a deep breath. “You need to wash off.”

“Sure, Cas,” Dean answered in a soft tone as he spurred his horse into movement once again. “Let’s just drop off old Bojack here, he’s done me a service.”

Castiel was confused for a moment before he realized Bojack was in reference to the horse. “Did everything go okay?”

“Yeah,” Dean gave him a quick grin over his shoulder. “I’ll tell you everything later, but for now all you need to know is that we took care of the Wendigo and managed to save Alfred _and_ Roy. Dill and Pete are taking them to the Medico.”

“And you didn’t get hurt,” Castiel murmured and squeezed Dean once.

“Well I got tossed around some but that’s normal for me,” Dean laughed and the sound was marvelous. “Hey uh Cas, maybe don’t sniff my neck, yeah? I bet I smell like shit.”

“You smell perfect.”

Castiel knew he was being weird and he could feel Dean tense for a second but the moment passed and he couldn’t help but smile when Dean relaxed back against him.

“Well then I guess it’s fine.”

More than fine, if you asked Castiel, but he kept that to himself, too content to just sit there and let Dean maneuver his horse through the town streets.

 

 

“Are you sure about this?”

Castiel nodded as he lead Dean to the Star private bath. “The soldiers will probably want to wash off themselves so they will be out there.”

“I know,” Dean grinned at him but followed without further complaint.

“Get in the water, I will fetch some soap,” some of the better soap, not the rough kind they usually used. Mother had had loads of scented soaps and oils and though most of that had gone bad long ago, Sequoia had been delighted to see the options and had started restocking again. Castiel didn’t think she would mind if he took advantage of that now. “Tell me about the hunt.”

That was the correct term, Dean had told him, and he saw the man smiling now as he undressed, as if he was pleased Castiel remembered. Or maybe he was just happy that Castiel wanted to hear, either way Castiel got his wish because Dean started describing everything they had done over the last few days. And what a story it was.

Riding was definitely not Dean’s forte and he spent a large amount of time describing the woes of the ride to the woods in question.

“But he saved my life, old Bojack did,” Dean chuckled and leaned his head back as he got comfortable on the ledge that ran around the pool. “Not sure he did it on purpose but he kicked out and caught the Wendigo square on the jaw. Lucky shot, those bastards are quick as a flash, but it slowed it enough for me to get to my feet again.”

“I thought you said nothing happened,” Castiel felt aghast and he pulled a little on Dean’s short hair as he rubbed his hands through it, making the man hiss and grin up at him.

“I also said I was tossed around. I usually am, especially when I’m alone on hunts.”

“You had six men with you,” Castiel felt a mix of mortification and fascination. But mostly he was just relieved to have Dean back with him.

“Yeah but none of them are hunters yet, it’s no big deal though,” Dean shrugged, his shoulder brushing Castiel’s legs where he sat on the floor of the room behind Dean, the man between his knees as he washed him. “I usually get separated from the group, even with Sam. Someone has to go out on a limb to draw the monster out sometimes, you know?”

“Who’s Sam?” Castiel murmured and Dean seemed to withdraw from the question, as if he hadn’t meant to speak the name out loud.

Castiel focused on washing off the soap from Dean’s hair as he waited. He had pulled off his socks and boots, folding up his pants so that he could sit with his feet in the warm water to get closer to Dean, the man relaxed on the ledge and leaned partially back against Castiel. It was definitely not a normal position for Castiel to be washing someone else, let alone another man, but he had felt a need to be close to Dean and it didn’t seem the man himself objected.

In fact, that Castiel at all was the one to scrub Dean’s hair was odd, wasn’t it? But he just couldn’t forget these past days, filled with anxiety and worry, and now that Dean was back and boisterous as ever Castiel felt a sense of calm wash over him and he wanted nothing more than to make Dean comfortable.

 _“Comfortable enough that he’ll stay?”_ Castiel found himself silently asking that question and it both terrified and thrilled him to feel so brash.

“Sam’s my little brother,” Dean eventually answered and pulled Castiel out of his own thoughts. “My wingman in hunting, the only person I’ve ever trusted,” he peeked over his shoulder up at Castiel. “So far.”

By the Gods, that filled Castiel with such strange and urgent hope that he could barely breathe. He didn’t know what he was yearning for but there was just something about Dean that made Castiel feel light as air.

“Don’t you need him for the Hornet Rocks?”

Dean turned back and Castiel felt his shoulders tense for a moment. “Nah, it’ll be fine like this.”

“Only if you’re sure,” Castiel murmured, unsure what he had said wrong. Without thinking about it he started rubbing suds on Dean’s shoulders and back, easing the muscles into relaxation. “Tell me more about the Wendigo, where did it come from?”

Dean instantly relaxed back against Castiel again, his head thumping back against Castiel’s stomach and wetting his tunic, not that he cared about that. Dean’s skin was smooth despite his many scars and the muscles underneath were firm and lean.

The air was thick with the scent of the soap, a spicier one that Sequoia no doubt had bought for Jonah to use but that Castiel didn’t think he had ever smelled on his brother. The scent mixed very well with Dean’s natural one and Castiel watched with hooded eyes as the other man sprawled out his legs in the water as he spoke in a sleepy drawl.

“Wendigos are human,” Dean started in a low murmur, moving his hands as he spoke, the dim candle light catching on his silver ring and entrancing Castiel. “Or they started that way. At some point they ate human flesh and sometimes, I guess if the situation is desperate enough or something, they can’t stop or turn back from what they’ve done. They’re driven to continue and with the years they become this hungering beast.”

“That’s horrible,” Castiel hummed, appalled. “And it can happen to anyone?”

His hands slid down Dean’s arms as far as he could reach and then back up again. Castiel wished he could reach the man’s hands, wished somehow irrationally to feel that ring against his own skin again. Dean arched his back a little but remained otherwise still.

“I wanna say no,” Dean was frowning, Castiel could see it even from his angle, the man’s brow furrowed in thought. “Usually it happens after prolonged exposure to hunger, and under a much longer time than just a few weeks. I mean, those people who crashed in the Andes ate some of their own, right? And none of them turned into monsters.”

“I don’t know about that,” Castiel mumbled, feeling not for the first time as if Dean spoke about things that went way above Castiel’s head.

He noticed several times a day when Dean tried to rein himself in and Castiel wished he wouldn’t. Wish foremost that he wouldn’t have to at all, that Castiel would be as knowledgeable as Dean, but mostly wished the man would take his time explaining to Castiel. The fact that Dean didn’t, made it feel like he was either hiding something or as if he didn’t think it would be worth the effort since he would be leaving soon anyway. And Castiel didn’t honestly know which was worse.

“Oh, um, the Andes are some mountains and people got caught up there, in the snow and… well the point is that they had to eat some of their own people and none of them turned Wendigo. I don’t know what was different here,” Dean shifted in his seat, his arms coming up to rest against Castiel’s knees as he arched his back again. Castiel resumed massaging the man’s shoulders. “Maybe everything’s different here,” he finished in a mumble and Castiel got the distinct feeling he wasn’t supposed to have heard that so he chose to only hum thoughtfully and focus on the knots around the base of Dean’s neck instead.

It made Dean groan, a decidedly pleasant sound which made Castiel redouble his efforts to rub the man’s sore muscles. He put some weight behind his kneading and it didn’t take long before Dean was like putty in his hands, every other exhale ending on a low moan, most born from relief from the sound of it.

Castiel shifted a little in his seat, his pants pulling taut over his crotch but he paid it no mind, too focused on Dean’s comfort at the moment. The man had willingly gone out and risked his own life to save strangers and he deserved the feast of a hero. No doubt father would want to congratulate the men anyhow but Castiel just knew Dean would be uncomfortable at such festivities, too used to operating in the dark.

Castiel wanted to show Dean that he deserved more, though. And maybe he could start with something small like this. Dean was obviously very tense, no doubt his mind was running a mile a minute at all times, many things occupying his thoughts and Castiel wished he would share some of it, to ease his conscious.

Castiel shifted again when Dean grabbed his left calf in a tight grip. “Right there, Cas,” he groaned and Gods, the sound of his voice right now…

Low and gritty, it shot through Castiel like an arrow and he pulled in a sharp gasp, though thankfully the sound was hidden by Dean kicking out his leg and making the water splash on the other end of the pool. What was this hot feeling? This heady, heaving _wave_ that washed over him…

Castiel was no fool, of course he knew, he touched himself frequently and this was merely a prelude to something more but it made no sense to be feeling like this while kneading Dean’s shoulders. Except, there _had_ been that kiss…

Suddenly Dean shifted back completely, seemingly slipping on the ledge, and his back crashed into Castiel’s front and crotch. Both men froze when Castiel’s hard dick was pushed harshly against Dean’s solid back. There was _no way_ , no way Dean couldn’t feel that and he was a man as well, he would without a shadow of a doubt know what it was that pressed against him.

Castiel reeled back as if burnt, skidding back on his ass on the damp floor, eyes wide as Dean whipped around to stare at him. Castiel’s heart thudded like a scared rabbit’s and he felt as if he couldn’t move when Dean’s brilliant eyes raked up and down his body.

“Why’d you pull away, Cas?” Dean murmured, his tone low and enticing somehow. When he reached for Castiel’s foot, Castiel felt his breathing hitch but he remained motionless when Dean wrapped his big hand around his ankle and pulled him back to the pool. The ring felt scalding against Castiel’s already heated skin and it almost made him moan. “Are you embarrassed?”

“Dean, I…”

Dean rose to meet Castiel, the waterline barely coming up to his thighs and Castiel’s eyes were instantly drawn down to the man’s impressive erection.

“You’re not the only one who reacted to the massage, little Lord.”

Castiel only managed a strangled moan before his hands lifted as if on their own accord to pull Dean in for a sloppy kiss. The other man hummed contently and pulled Castiel even closer, so that their dicks could brush together and it just made everything burn hotter. Dean’s dick was thick and hard, so warm it could be felt through the cloth of Castiel’s pants.

He put his hands on Dean’s neck, holding the man close as they both opened up to let their tongues dance and Castiel’s mind spun with the meaning of this. Did Dean truly want this? Had he suddenly remembered the kiss on the balcony? Or had he never forgotten? And if he had remembered all along, then why had he pretended not to? Maybe he didn’t want this after all. Why did Castiel even want this and what was _this_ in the first place?

“You’re thinking too much,” Dean growled and put wet hands on Castiel’s hips, pulling him closer. “Do you want to stop?”

“No,” Castiel exclaimed in a rush of air. “No, please show me more.”

Because there was no doubt in his mind that Dean knew what he was doing here. Castiel had some experience but it had all been with women and petty tame in his mind, certainly not something to get so worked up about.

But this… feeling like _this_ Castiel could understand why people would go to war over their lovers.

His whole body flushed hot and his breathing felt labored already. Naked like this, the kisses felt so much headier, Dean’s body solid and warm against his. Castiel’s clothes were soon soaked with bathwater but he barely felt it, too engrossed in kissing Dean as the man let his arms snake around Castiel’s back to hold him close.

He got the sudden urge to flip them around, to push Dean down against something flat and just rut against him until they were both breathless and coming undone. The image itself made him almost growl and he pushed against Dean’s shoulders, breaking free of the kiss to gather his wits.

Dean murmured something and started kissing Castiel’s neck, the water sloshing around his legs as he grinded slowly against Castiel. By the Gods, Castiel wanted to touch Dean’s naked dick but he wanted even more to feel it against his own without his pants between.

“Dean, it feels so…”

“Yeah? You like it?”

Castiel _loved_ it and he loved even more the little whine Dean let out when Castiel pushed him off completely. He kept one hand on the man’s chest, anchoring them together as he tried his best to open his pants one-handedly.

When Dean noticed what he was doing a grin spread across his handsome face and he surged to help.

“Wanna suck you,” he rasped in a gruff voice, still grinning. “But I’m gonna come so soon, wanna feel you when I do.”

Castiel’s whole body shook with need and want, desire so sharp it was almost painful travelling all over him, making his entire body feel raw and exposed.

“I want you,” he all but croaked and anything else he had to say stuck in his throat when Dean’s eyes shot up to meet his, pinning him down.

“Yeah, _fuck yeah_ , I want you too, little Lord.”

Castiel didn’t know what that nickname was about but it felt safe and intimate and his heart thudded every time he heard Dean use it. He was _Dean’s_ little Lord.

A sharp gasp ripped out of him when Dean managed to wrestle Castiel’s hard dick out of his confining pants. Gods, he had never been this erect before, certainly not with someone else, and it hurt but the pain was so sweet he almost started weeping when Dean pushed his own dick against Castiel’s, rutting against him.

“Fuck, you feel so fucking good, Cas,” Dean growled, kissing Castiel’s neck. “C’mon, grab ‘em with me.”

Castiel was barely coherent enough to understand, his body and mind too filled with arousal and pleasure for him to focus. But when Dean grabbed his hand to bring it to their aching dicks he understood clearly enough.

He didn’t quite reach around the girth of both of them but it was okay because Dean added his calloused hand as well and it was glorious, that damned silver ring pressing hard against Castiel, somehow making it even better. His whole body jerked and Castiel looked helplessly up at Dean, the man towering over him. Beautiful, Dean was the most beautiful person Castiel had ever seen and he felt completely at a loss of what to do when he felt his climax rushing through him much faster than usual.

Somehow, irrationally, he wanted to last, to show that he was a man worthy of Dean’s attention. But looking up at him Castiel thought that perhaps didn’t matter so much, because Dean was looking at him as if Castiel was some kind of wonder, his whole face clearly showing his need and desire.

“Fucking hell, Cas,” Dean rasped, leaning in to touch his forehead to Castiel’s just like he had done on the balcony. Castiel felt his stomach swoop and oh, he was going to come hard. “You feel so fucking good. Knew you’d be goddamn perfect.”

Castiel could only grunt in answer, caught at the razor’s edge and unable to comprehend anything but pleasure right now. He wished the angle was better because he found himself in need to thrust up and sitting as he was right now his movement was severely hampered. Dean was at the advantage but he remained mostly still, focused on stripping their dicks together.

“Want you inside, Cas,” Dean suddenly rasped and blew Castiel’s mind.

“What?”

“Here,” Dean slowled their stroking and reached to grab the hand Castiel had clamped against Dean’s ribs. “Back here,” he mumbled and arched his back so that he could reach to press Castiel’s fingers against his ass hole. A place Castiel had never spared a second thought to and that he now suddenly wanted to explore more than anything.

“Dean,” he grunted, bucking up as he best he could, pressing his fingers probably too harshly against the puckered muscle, feeling it give a little. “Dean, I—”

He was startled when Dean threw his head back, moaning loudly as he released thickly between them. Castiel lurched forward when a wave of arousal washed over him and he couldn’t help but bite down against Dean’s shoulder as he came too, adding to the hot and sticky mess coating their fingers. The orgasm lasted longer than any Castiel had ever had before and he whined pitifully at the end of it, his dick quivering and oversensitive but still somehow feeling so good.

“Damn, Cas,” Dean mumbled after a moment spent just panting against each other. “I didn’t mean for this to happen. I… I just can’t keep away, I—”

Castiel shushed him, nudging Dean’s cheek with his nose until the man turned his head so that they could kiss again. Slowly and less desperate now but no less sweet because of it. And perhaps that was what surprised Castiel the most; how much he could still feel from one kiss, even with his most immediate desire sated.

 

 


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Does everyone remember the "Dean being a dumbass" tag? Do you?! Okay good, just wanted to make sure no one came here unprepared :3

 

 

The coming two days were of course weird as fuck and _of course_ it was Dean’s fault. Dean was a lot of things but he definitely wasn’t delusional about his own shortcomings and shit, having _the talk_ with a potential lover was definitely one of Dean’s weak points.

Except that was the thing, wasn’t it? Cas couldn’t be Dean’s lover, no matter how much Dean wanted it. Or however much Cas wanted it too, because fucking hell it really seemed like the dude wanted to get with Dean. He was confused as hell, Cas was, and it was clear that he wanted to talk to Dean not just about whatever the hell this was between them that made them ache whenever they were apart, but also about the whole homosexual thing.

Cas didn’t seem as freaked out about it as Dean had feared, just curious and confused. From what Dean could gather there didn’t seem to be a general dislike of homosexuality, not as much as there was no knowledge whatsoever. Supposedly they didn’t do that kind of thing around here, Dean really didn’t know.

All he knew was that he was a grade A douche for avoiding the topic. Because this time around it was different. He couldn’t fake not remembering and he didn’t want to either, and Cas seemed to know this, even though he wasn’t pressing for a talk. Though he was persistent in his kicked-puppy-stares, that was for fucking sure.

But the thing was that Dean didn’t know what to do or how to act. Hell, he wasn’t exactly boyfriend material so he rarely stuck around after breakfast, if he ever made it that far. And here he kind of… kind wanted to this time, maybe? But then again he couldn’t. Well he could stick around for a while, hell they lived together and spent every goddamn waking hour together and Dean itched to be around Cas as much as possible now that he had wasted almost a fucking week chasing that Wendigo.

But then he would leave, right? No way in hell was Dean staying here, no matter how nice everyone was. No, he was going back to his own world and he would have to leave Cas here and maybe it would hurt less to leave if he had never gotten a taste of the pie, so to speak?

Except fucking hell, Dean had gotten _such a taste_. And so had Cas, apparently, Dean still had the bite mark to prove it, long after. He liked to finger it as he thought about Cas when he was alone in his room, painfully aware that Cas was on the other side of the wall.

Whatever happened, it was getting immensely clear that Dean needed to address the situation, however freaked out he was by the prospect. He had simply come to care too much and that in itself was something worth of note, he thought.

“You know what?” Dean exclaimed late on the afternoon of the second day since _the thing that happened_. “We should go for a ride.”

Cas just looked at him in surprise for several moments and Dean didn’t blame him. That had been random as fuck and Dean’s forcefully cheery tone was clearly strained.

“I guess…”

“Yeah, it could be fun,” Dean jumped up from the table they were seated at. The great hall around them was bustling with activities, people already now starting to prepare for the harvest festival even though it was far off still. “You could show me some, uh, places. I think. I mean, that could be cool.”

Cas rose too, slower and now frowning slightly. “To show you places?”

“Yeah,” Dean clapped him on the shoulder. “C’mon, let’s not be cooped up in here with everyone else all day.”

He looked at Cas, trying to will the man to understand that Dean was ready to talk about whatever this was but that he couldn’t fucking do it here. Sure, they could be alone in Cas’ quarters but Dean was feeling stifled, dreading the conversation too much to be able to sit still.

Because how the fuck would it go anyway?

_“I like you, like a fucking lot, but I ain’t made for relationships, I never even liked anyone before, even less a man. Men are just for fucking around, y’know? Except I think maybe I wanna do more than just fuck you. But I can’t because I ain’t staying. That’s right, I’m gonna abandon you in like a week. And I don’t wanna just hit ‘n quit you so I’d rather not hit you at all, okay? Except all I can think about is your thick cock in my ass. So excuse me for being a bit weird. Okay? Good talk.”_

Good. Fucking. Talk.

“Sure, I suppose,” Cas gave him a tentative smile and Dean felt elated that it seemed like Cas had understood him. “Let me just go change. I’ll meet you at the stables.”

Dean nodded, the motion feeling jerky, and set off in the opposite direction as Cas. It was fine, it would be okay. If he could just deliver his thoughts clearly enough then Cas would understand, the man was nothing if not rational, after all.

Dean of course picked Bojack again, the horse even seemed happy to see him, if horses could be happy.

“Who’s a good boy?” Dean almost cooed, rubbing the horse’s face. Bojack shifted, treading in place and Dean imagined him wagging his tail.

The stable master himself joined him with a crooked smile on his old face. “Do you want me to saddle him for you, Sir? Or do you prefer to do it yourself?”

“Please do it for me,” as if Dean knew diddly-squat about saddling horses. “And Lord Castiel’s too, he’s joining me.”

“Very good, Sir.”

That fucking “sir” was going to go to Dean’s head, he just knew it. “Maybe Cas knows a good place for picking wild apples, huh?” Dean mumbled, rubbing Bojack’s nose, smiling at how the horse’s ears perked up. “Would you like that, boy? Some nice juicy apples for Bojack the Hero, huh?”

“This is the second time you refer to him as ‘Bojack’, is that really his name?”

Dean startled badly when Cas appeared out of fucking nowhere but he hid it well enough by leaning in against the horse. “Guess the little Lord caught us cuddling,” he mumbled and Bojack snorted conspiratorially at the same time as Cas chuckled.

“He’s name’s Concorde, Milord” the stable master offered but Dean just shook his head.

“He’s clearly a Bojack, see he’s even got the white diamond on his nose and everything.”

“You mean the blaze?” Cas asked and Dean just shrugged because hell if he knew what it was called.

“Maybe. Which one is your horse? I told the master here to saddle yours too.”

“Reliable Dauntless over here,” Cas stated proudly and walked over to a pen further down the row.

“Dauntless?” Dean snorted, brushing horse hair off his hands. “That’s a ship name, not a horse name.”

Cas arched an eyebrow at him and fucking hell, Dean’s whole body flushed hot for a second there. “I assure you, he is most deserving of the name.”

“I bet,” Dean mumbled, smiling to himself, but then immediately bursting out laughing when he caught sight of the animal himself.

It was a giant of a horse, clearly a warhorse even though Cas wasn’t a soldier. And it was white with big black spots all over its body. Like a humongous Dalmatian. Or a cow.

“What’s so funny?”

“He should be named Bessie!” Dean laughed, leaning against the door to the pen. Dauntless regarded him suspiciously and that just made Dean laugh harder.

“Bessie!” Cas exclaimed, shaking his head, although he seemed unable to keep from smiling at Dean’s mirth. “He’s a _boy_.”

“A big fucking boy,” Dean remarked with a smirk and Cas gasped indignantly.

“He’s _muscly_.”

“Soon you’ll say he’s big boned too.”

“Maybe he is.”

Dean shook his head, grinning at Cas’ squared jaw. Fucking hell he wanted to kiss the man. Wanted to press him up against a wall and kiss him stupid.

The thought sobered him and he turned to walk back to his own horse. “Whatever, we’ll see what you say when me ‘n old Bojack outrun you and Cartman.”

“You don’t even know where we’re going!”

Dean just grinned and waved over his shoulder, catching the stable master’s amused gaze and smiling even wider for it.

 

 

They’d probably been riding for at least an hour, on and off racing each other, before Cas motioned for them to stop.

“I picked up some food from the kitchens,” he said as he demounted with the grace of someone who’d been riding his whole fucking life.

Dean was less graceful but he still got off the horse without falling flat on his face, which was a plus in his book.

“Pie?”

“Yes, Dean,” Cas smiled indulgently, having picked up on Dean’s vice a long time ago. “Apple pie and cold minced meat pie, you can choose whichever you want.”

“Or both?”

Dean perked up like a goddamn dog when Cas nodded. “Of course.”

Cas had led them to a secluded little clearing where they could let the horses roam within a comfortable distance, grazing calmly as Cas placed his saddle bag on an old tree stump. The weather was clear, the air not even nippy in the late autumn sunshine, and Dean smiled up at the blue skies. Dusk came quickly at this time of year, even in this bizarro world, but he figured they still had enough time for a quick meal and the ride back before it got dark. He was even certain there was a quicker way back, that Cas had just lead him on a longer route simply because he had wanted to.

Or maybe he had sensed that Dean had been tense and had wanted to help him relax. Cas often relaxed Dean, in general, so it wasn’t such a far-fetched thought in this moment.

They ate in silence, Dean listening contently to the sounds of the forest around them. The wind in the trees, the birds chirping, stuff that he normally never took the time to notice. But through the serenity he still couldn’t help but keep a watchful eye on the forest. Because damn, he hadn’t even been here a month yet and he had fought no less than three supernatural creatures, and all in an area the size of New York state.

He caught Cas watching him several times during their meal and Dean knew he should take the bull by the horns, so to speak, but it was difficult to gather his thoughts. Especially when it felt like they were on a fucking romantic picnic… Cas was even sitting in a ray of sunlight for fuck’s sake.

They were both quiet through the whole break, both clearly lost in their own thoughts, but when they rose to gather the leftovers Dean couldn’t take the silence anymore.

“Look, Cas,” Dean sighed, combing a hand through his hair. “D’you just wanna get this out there?”

“Get what out there?”

Cas looked honestly confused and Dean couldn’t really blame him. Didn’t make it easier, though. “Are you even familiar with homosexuality? Or any kind of sexuality that doesn’t include man-on-woman action?”

Okay, that didn’t clear up anything, as evident by Cas’ deepened frown. “What?”

Dean felt like he was in actual pain but fuck, he couldn’t stop now. “I like you, Cas,” he said, the words almost physically pulled out of him, raspy and wispy and shit it felt weird to say it out loud. Good weird. But also _holy shit did he just say that_? “I… I wanna…” he looked down, unable to take Cas’ piercing gaze as he stumbled through an explanation. “I _want_ stuff, okay? But we shouldn’t because… because you’re a Lord’s son and I’m a hunter and…”

This was _way_ harder than Dean had thought it would be, and he had thought it would be pretty fucking hard. What point was he even trying to make?

“Dean,” Cas suddenly stepped up to him, grabbing Dean’s wrist in one hand and cupping Dean’s jaw with his other. “I don’t know what’s happening, except all I know is that we’ve kissed. And… done things. And I want to do more. You said,” he stepped closer, close enough to share breaths and Dean’s heart thumped harder. “You said you wanted me inside you. Is that true? Is that a thing that we can do?”

“Yeah, shit,” Dean swallowed hard, shifting on his feet as the tension between them grew. “Fuck yeah I want you inside, Cas. Wanna feel you fuck me up.”

Cas drew a sharp breath. “But we can’t? You said something, that night on the balcony, about me hating you? Killing you for wanting me?”

“Yeah I remember,” Dean looked down for a moment, kicking himself for admitting that but fuck it, he had to commit to it now. “I remember everything, I was just trying to forget.”

“Why?”

“Because I was scared, Cas,” his voice was raspy again and he looked up when Cas hummed thoughtfully.

“Scared that I would harm you for kissing me.”

“Yes.”

Well not only that but they had to start somewhere.

“People do that?”

Dean really didn’t want to spoil Cas’ somewhat innocent mind but some stuff needed to be said. “Yeah, Cas, they do. Sometimes they beat the shit out of people and sometimes they even kill them. It ain’t right but it’s a thing.”

“Oh,” Cas tightened his hold on Dean’s wrist, eyes sad. “I won’t, though.”

“Yeah, I kinda figured after the bath,” Dean grinned for a second but sobered up when Cas didn’t smile back.

“But you don’t want to do more? Or you do but you’re holding back? I don’t understand, Dean.”

Fucking hell, why couldn’t things ever be easy? “I do want more with you, Cas. It’s scaring me, I’ve never… never wanted that before.”

“Sex?”

Dean rolled his eyes, smiling a little again. “The things that come after sex. Things... things I’m no good for.”

“I don’t believe that’s true.”

“But it’s true that you’re Lord Star’s son, and you can’t exactly get with a man, right?”

Cas pulled himself up, straightening and looking at Dean with such a fierceness that he almost looked taller than Dean himself.

“I can do whatever I want.”

“Yeah?” Dean was full-on grinning now, completely fucking overwhelmed by seeing Cas like this. In this moment it was easy to imagine that they _could_ have something after all. At least for a little while. “And what do you want?”

“I want…” Cas’ eyes turned dark and hooded and Dean’s dick woke up faster than it had in a long while. “I want to be inside you.”

Well fuck it, why couldn’t Dean be allowed a sweet slice of heaven? For just a little while, why couldn’t he pretend everything was alright in the world? Why couldn’t he indulge?

“Yeah?”

“Yes, Dean.”

The answer was that he fucking could, simple as that, and he _would_.

Cas moaned throatily when Dean pulled him into a deep kiss. They stumbled back, Dean hitting a tree and Cas pressed him up against it, body a hot line against Dean’s. A thrill went through Dean and fuck, he had never been kissed quite like this before. With this kind of desperation and urge. It was raw and primal, but at the same time so full of emotion that Dean found his head swimming and knees buckling.

“Dean,” Cas growled, voice sending pleasurable shivers down Dean’s spine. “Dean you’re _so_ , so…”

“Yeah,” Dean panted, hands grabbing desperately at Cas, anywhere he could reach. “Yeah, I know.”

And then Cas fucking planted his whole face against the crook of Dean’s shoulder, goddamn _sniffing_ him, and Dean all but lost it.

 

*********

 

Riding back to the keep with a hard-on proved to be very counterproductive to keeping said hard-on but Dean thought it was just as well because there was a long fucking way from the stables to the privacy of Cas’ quarters and Dean would have hated to walk all that way with his dick tenting his jeans.

“Hey Cas,” he caught the man’s arm just as they had dropped off Bojack and Dauntless, slowing Cas’ brisk pace to a halt. “We need, uh…” he grinned, feeling unexpectedly boyish for a moment. “Oil or something.”

Cas looked thoughtful. “Like cooking oil?”

“That’s gonna be a bitch to clean,” Dean mumbled with a wince. “But if that’s the best you’ve got…”

“What do we even need it fo—oh,” Cas turned more bodily towards him, his voice lowering even as his pupils blew out. “To facilitate the slide.”

“Yeah,” Dean couldn’t help but keep grinning because fuck, on the hasty ride back he had changed his mind back and forth about a thousand times but Cas seemed to work with single-minded determination and that encouraged Dean to no end. “We’re gonna force something rather big into something kinda small, we need all the facilitating we can get.”

Cas breathed out harshly. “Sequoia keeps massage oils down by the bath. Flower scented.”

Dean laughed out loud, a surprised and happy sound. “Guess I’ll fart daisies then.”

Cas gave him an amused look but here was no hesitation in his steps as he steered them down to the baths. Dean’s dick was chubbing up real fuck fast again and he took off his jacket to fold over his arm and carry in front of himself, hiding as best he could. When they got to the baths Dean noticed several people cleaning themselves and he wondered if Cas wanted to do that too. There was no need for them to fuck on Cas’ bed, if the man wanted to take Dean from behind down in the pool that could be cool too. Cleaning up after would be easier, if nothing else.

He didn’t even get to ask, though, because when Cas opened the door to the Stars’ private bath Dean was treated to an eyeful of Cas’ dad’s flabby ass. He nearly squeaked and motioned for Cas that he would wait outside. Fuck it, doing it on a bed was better anyway.

As soon as they were _fucking finally_ alone in Cas’ room, Dean wasted no time. He just threw his jacket carelessly onto the divan next to the door and pressed Cas up against the wall beside it, for a moment basically forgetting that the oil was in his jacket pocket. Cas didn’t hesitate either, though, he just grabbed Dean’s shirt and pulled him closer, a mimicry of their position out in the forest earlier.

“Cas, fuck, I want you,” Dean felt feverish. Well he was normally a sexual creature and he’d gone well over two months since his last lay so he thought he could be forgiven now that he was faced with his apparent crush.

Hold the fuck _up_. He wasn’t “crushing” on Cas, was he?

Cas dragged his teeth up Dean’s neck and totally fucking ruined Dean’s train of thought. “Guide me, Dean.”

“Fuck that’s hot,” Dean started pulling on the strings holding Cas’ pants up. “Tell me, little Lord, have you had sex before?”

“I have,” Cas answered breathlessly, pressed up against the wall with his hips jutted out so that Dean could work on removing his pants. “But only three times with two different women.”

Only women, just as Dean had figured out long ago. “And how was that?”

Believe it or fucking not, but Dean needed to keep the conversation up for a moment, too overwhelmed with how much he needed Cas. Because this was just about sex, right? No need to get _this_ worked up.

Cas moaned a little when Dean’s hand brushed against his hard dick through only his underwear. “Fine.”

“Really hot there, stud,” Dean grinned and stepped back to shrug off his shirt so he could whip his t-shirt over his head. “Wanna elaborate?”

Cas was clearly momentarily distracted by Dean’s perky nipples and who could fucking blame him? If Dean had been able to he would have done that awesome thing when dudes flexed their pecs so their tits jumped. Since he didn’t really know how to do that without looking like a moron he started working on his jeans instead.

“I’m…” Cas cleared his throat and looked up at Dean’s face with obvious difficulty. “I don’t know if I’m good or not, the first woman I lay with was a whore and I’m pretty sure she faked her climax.”

“Yeah, they do that,” Dean couldn’t help but smile at the image of Cas fucking a bored woman. “Why’d you go to a whore? With your face I’m sure you could’ve gotten anyone you want.”

“I don’t know if you’ve noticed but I’m a pretty boring person, Dean,” Cas deadpanned in a dry voice and it made Dean pause in his undressing to step up to him.

“I didn’t notice,” he mumbled sweetly, cupping Cas’ jaw to bring in him for an unexpectedly tender kiss. “I think you’re fucking awesome, not just your face.”

Cas looked at him like he _really_ wanted to believe him and it kind of broke Dean’s heart because for all the smooth-talking he usually did to get into someone’s pants he was definitely telling the truth in this moment.

“Well, I think my technique improved over the years, at least,” Cas said in a low voice when they eventually broke apart. “The second woman I slept with was not a whore and I think she finished properly. She even came back for a second time.”

Dean huffed out a smile and pecked Cas quickly on his lips before stepping away and started to work on getting his boots and socks off.

“You don’t need to worry, I’m already pretty fucking hard for you if you hadn’t noticed. And from what we did in the bath I know this is gonna rock my world and all that jazz,” he winked at Cas as he kicked out of his jeans. “And I’m a guy too, right? Hard for me to fake an orgasm.”

Heat rose so fast on Cas’ cheeks that Dean was almost inclined to call it a blush. “I can’t argue with that logic.”

“Logic of a fool is inarguable.”

“You’re not a fool.”

Dean thought it was really adorable how fast and vehemently Cas came to Dean’s defense. “Gonna make me cream my pants if you get any cuter, Cas,” Dean smirked and reached out to take Cas’ hand, pulling him towards the bed. “Come on, get undressed and lie down. Keep your dick hard for me, yeah?”

Cas nodded and pulled his tunic over his head and fucking hell this was only the second time Dean saw him naked and in here the lighting was much better than in the baths. Cas made quite the sight, that was for fucking sure… Dean knew this already but the man was clearly fit, lean muscles and sun-kissed skin that just begged to be licked. Fucking delicious.

“What are you going to do?”

Dean licked his lips, caught up in imagining Cas’ taste, and then stepped up to kiss the man on his warm ear. “I’m gonna open myself up,” he moaned, feeling Cas’ dick jump. “And then I’m gonna sink down on your hard dick. Gonna ride you like a pony, little Lord.”

Cas’ whole body jerked so hard he almost toppled over but that was fine, was fucking fantastic. Dean just chuckled darkly and wrapped strong arms around the other man, directing his weakened body to the bed, leaving him to figure out how to get his pants off himself as Dean went back to his jacket to fetch the small vial of oil they’d hidden in one of his many pockets.

When he turned back to the bed Cas was on his back in the middle of it, hard dick in his hand as he stroked it slowly, his eyes glued to Dean’s body.

“Liking what you see, Cas?” Dean asked in the sultriest voice he could produce and fucking hell, the sound Cas made in answer was just perfect. If Dean had had the hips for it he would have sashayed back to the bed.

“Dean, I’ve never seen someone so… I can’t look away.”

“Gonna take that as a compliment, little Lord,” Dean grinned and climbed on the bed, just as naked as Cas now. He sat on his knees over one of Cas’ shins and bent forward to dribble some oil on Cas’ dick. Holy shit, that was a _flowery_ scent alright. “Try it with some of this, okay?”

Cas’ free leg kicked out a little when he resumed his stroking, now aided by the oil. Fuck he looked hot like this, stomach muscles already bunching and a deep flush covering most of his body. His lips were kiss swollen, eyes dark as he tracked Dean’s every movement. His gaze felt like a living thing, travelling hotly over Dean’s whole body and he couldn’t help but arch his back a little, throwing his head back to expose his throat.

The first touch of his oiled up fingers against his twitching hole made Dean’s own dick bob forlornly but he ignored it. He was too fucking wound up to manage prepping and jerking off at the same time without coming. One finger went in easy enough but he forced two too fast and moaned deeply because of the burn. Cas was thick, bet it would feel like this.

“You like it?” Cas panted and when Dean looked down he saw the man’s jaws were clenched so hard his cheeks were bulging. He had fisted the sheets in one hand and was barely stroking his dick now, seemingly too hard to continue without tipping over. Fuck Dean had never seen such a _straight_ cock, so goddamn perfect for bouncing on...

“Feels so fucking good, Cas,” he groaned, too far gone to care if he sounded slutty or not. Judging by Cas’ look he liked how Dean sounded anyway.

“What are you doing right now?”

“Stretching my hole,” Dean licked his lips slowly, tipping forward a bit to reach better. “You gotta fit without hurting either of us.”

Fuck he was breathless now, too hard, too aroused, still too goddamn overwhelmed for some reason. It wasn’t like he was a virgin, hell he had slept with lots of dudes before, both topping and bottoming.

“I’ve never been this hard with someone else before.”

The way Cas could just blurt out shit like that in that gravelly voice of his would always be a fucking turn-on, Dean just knew it.

“Me neither,” he moaned, skin clammy as heat flashed over him in waves.

Suddenly Cas wrapped a big hand around the arm Dean was using to support his weight, startling him so that he almost tumbled down. Cas sat up a little, catching Dean’s weight and bringing his mouth up against Dean’s shoulder.

“Don’t lie to me,” he rasped, raking his teeth over Dean’s warm skin.

“I ain’t,” Dean groaned, forcing three fingers in and actually aiming _not_ to hit his prostate so much for fear of coming too soon. “You get under my skin.”

Cas bit down a little, not harshly like he had done in the bath but seemingly just to test the give. It made Dean moan more submissively than he had thought himself capable of, and Cas licked the abused skin soothingly.

“I want to be inside you.”

“Fuck yeah, lie back down.”

Cas took a handful of heartbeats to just bite Dean’s shoulder again, the skin getting ruddy and Dean’s strength draining more and more with every little mark Cas kissed into his skin. His dick was leaking so much it was creating a pool on Cas’ thigh and his balls felt fit to burst.

As soon as Cas had pulled away to relax down against the bed, Dean took a moment to squeeze his balls and dick, just to ease some of the pressure. Fuck, this was insane. Cas was looking up at him with heavily lidded eyes, gaze constantly drawn to Dean’s bitten shoulder and Dean felt pleasure rake down his body when he figured out that Cas liked to see his marks on Dean’s naked body. As if he owned Dean and he kind of did, in the moment.

It was such a feral thing and Dean fucking loved it.

He had to take a big breath just to steady himself and then he climbed higher on the bed, positioning himself with his knees by Cas’ sides. The man under him felt scalding to the touch and when Cas put his hands on Dean’s thighs it just made everything even hotter. He held Cas’ dick steady with one hand, leaning his other against Cas’ chest as he started lowering himself.

He maintained eye-contact all the way down, sliding down at a maddeningly slow pace and he reveled in the obvious internal struggle Cas went through. Yeah, it was fucking clear that Cas wanted to slam right up into Dean’s tight heat, alright. But he stayed put, neck taut and eyes fierce, and so fucking handsome it hurt to even look at him.

“How about that, little Lord,” Dean growled when he was fully seated, rocking his hips slowly. “You were a good boy and stayed still just liked I wanted you to.”

Cas looked like he was about to explode. “Dean…”

“Hold it a little longer, yeah?” Dean winked again and wasted no time in starting to move. Fuck adjusting, he was stretched far enough and his whole body begged to be fucked.

He pulled up, Cas’ dick sliding just beautifully, and then slammed back down again, setting a hard and fast pace from the get-go. Cas made a strangled sound and his fingers dug in against Dean’s hard thigh muscles. Fuck it was the best fucking lay Dean had ever had and he wasn’t even half-way through it yet.

Cas just took it so perfectly, body moving in sync with Dean’s. His sounds were driving Dean wild, every grunt and groan throwing pleasurable waves over Dean’s already heated body. Cas’ dick filled him up just right, just enough to mark him as big and powerful, but not enough to be overbearing. And fucking hell, the way he felt against Dean’s prostate was crazy good.

Realistically there should be no difference between Cas’ dick and other’s Dean had taken, not in the sense of his prostate being stimulated. But fucking hell, there was _such a difference_ and Dean would be a fool to deny the reason why any longer.

“Dean, by the _Gods_. _Dean_.”

“Yeah, fucking give it to me, Cas,” Dean patted Cas’ hard chest. “Come on, feet on the bed, up with your knees.”

Cas was clearly beyond knowing what was even going on but he took the order so beautifully that Dean almost came from the power rush alone. As soon as Cas had both feet planted firmly on the bed he started thrusting up into Dean and oh fuck yeah, that was the stuff.

“Gonna come, Cas,” Dean moaned, leaning back against Cas’ powerful thighs as he reached down with one hand to start stroking his aching dick.

Cas growled something unintelligible and grabbed Dean’s hips harshly, practically pulling Dean into each thrust and the pressure that applied to Dean’s prostate made him see stars. He was pushed so harshly over the edge that he let out a punched out shout as he emptied all over Cas’ stomach and chest.

“ _Dean_.”

That was the only warning Dean got before he was roughly yanked down and rolled over. He was still in the throes of his climax and the swift movement left him dizzy and rearing for another release. His dick twitched valiantly and he moaned loudly when Cas grabbed his shoulders and started driving hard into him.

It was clear that Cas was strong as fuck and Dean reeled from how it felt, being pushed down and fucked so hard he was sure the bed would break. His prostate was overstimulated and his dick was still weeping out blobs of come and it was too much and just perfect all at the same time.

“Come inside,” Dean all but sobbed out when Cas started biting his chest, scraping his teeth over Dean’s nipple. “Fill me up, little Lord.”

Cas bit him so harshly when he came that Dean just _knew_ it would leave a mark and he fucking loved it. Hell, he hoped it would scar over so that he would have something left of Cas even when he left this world to go home.

Well, damn… that thought just took him right out of his afterglow like a kick to the balls. Cas was still buried deep inside him, dick still twitching as he panted over Dean, breath warm on Dean’s bite mark. And it should be wonderful but now Dean had gone and ruined it for himself by remembering that this wasn’t his.

What the fuck was he doing, going around confessing shit to Cas, having sex with the man, and admitting to himself that he was crushing hard? What the hell good would that do? Nothing, and he’d do damn well to remember that.

“Dean, that was…”

“Awesome, yeah?” Dean strained to sound as cheerful as possible. This had after all been a fun romp, right? _Right_?!

Cas rose on his hands, looking down at Dean with too much adoration. “Truly.”

“Think you could…?” Dean tilted his hips to the side and Cas immediately looked contrite.

“Oh yes, of course.”

He rolled off smoothly enough and Dean instantly missed him but refused to even acknowledge the feeling. If things had been different he would have liked for Cas to stay inside a lot longer but things weren’t different and Dean was just a fool.

“Wow, I got sticky,” Dean remarked as he stood up, touching his chest and the remains of his release Cas had inadvertently smeared all over him. “It’s times like this that you miss a real shower, right?”

“A shower?”

Fucking _hell_ , Dean needed to get a grip.

“I just mean I’d like to clean up but it ain’t like we could waltz through the whole keep to the bath,” he grinned, washing off some of Cas’ confusion.

The man nodded and stretched out on the bed. “I suppose that’s true.”

He just laid there, covered in their combined sweat and Dean’s come, not to mention the oil that had spread everywhere, and he didn’t seem bothered at all. Dean supposed Cas didn’t usually care about stuff like cleaning when he had sex, maybe no one did around here.

Suddenly Dean felt stupid and naked in the face of Cas’ open interest. He didn’t belong here, never would.

“Yeah, but I guess we can clean up with that,” he waved to indicate the decanter of water that stood on a table beside a small basin. It was what they used to wash up in the morning anyway.

Cas nodded to show his consent and Dean hurried over to it, somehow relieved to have turned his back to the man. He needed to get himself under control and it felt impossible when he had Cas’ eyes on him. Felt even more impossible with the man’s spunk running out of Dean’s fucked out ass...

“Dean, I want you to know that this was… really special to me.”

The words caught Dean off guard. There was so much unsaid in Cas’ choice of words, in his tone, and Dean found himself yearning for it but unable to reciprocate it.

“Yeah,” he forced a laugh and resolutely didn’t turn around. “Felt great, buddy.”

It was hard to tell who he hurt the most with his obviously fake casual attitude; himself or Cas.

 

 


	7. Chapter 7

 

 

Castiel felt troubled, and maybe a little agitated? He wasn’t sure, not one to usually work himself into a fit but this whole thing with Dean was driving him up the walls. Gods, just seeing Dean’s ring and remembering what it felt like against his own skin, pressed close against his hard dick, almost made Castiel blush like a virgin on her wedding night. He was embarrassing and he truthfully couldn’t care less about that.

All around him the keep was in the midst of preparing for the harvest festival, one of the most joyous occasions of the whole year, and Castiel was usually swept up in the whole thing, not one to shy away from the work. And this year, with Dean walking around wide-eyed at the many decorations, it should have been even more fun.

But the thing was that Castiel didn’t know how to feel around the man anymore.

At first he had been confused, by Dean’s words and actions, and by his own reactions and feelings. And then, after they had had sex, Castiel had felt… full. Yes, there was no other way to describe it. He had felt as if someone had blown how air into him, breathing him into life. He had felt as if he hadn’t been living before. Something about Dean just ignited him and he was craving more.

As he watched listlessly how people hurried around in the hall he was sitting in, he wondered tiredly when his feelings towards Dean had changed so drastically. It was true that he had been interested from the beginning, curious and maybe even infatuated like he had been infatuated with the heroes of his childhood stories.

And there had been nothing odd about that. Dean claimed to live a life where he killed monsters and he had proven on more than one occasion that that wasn’t a lie. Hell, they had met because he had literally saved Castiel from certain death. Who wouldn’t be curious about such a man? And then there was of course the fact that Dean wasn’t even from here.

He was exotic and interesting and objectively Castiel could call him handsome, beautiful even.

Most ladies of the court were smitten with him, even Jonah playfully complained that Sequoia wouldn’t have turned Dean down. Then there was the soldiers, Captain Rutherford only had praise to share, and father was completely stunned by Dean’s bravery and skills.

So yes, Castiel certainly wasn’t the only one to be slightly in love with the man.

He snorted to himself but didn’t attract any attention, the people too involved with the preparations. Even Dean was helping, doing his best to hang banners as if he didn’t know that made his shirt ride up so that he showed a tantalizing slip of skin. Castiel gritted his teeth every time he saw the maids look and titter cutely amongst themselves.

But him being in love with Dean? What a cruel jest. Certainly he was just infatuated like everyone else, Dean was after all very likable, and the fact that they had had sex didn’t really matter in the long run. Dean had clearly shown Castiel that.

After the act, when Dean had acted so aloof, it had cut deep into Castiel’s soul. Yes, he had felt light as air, ready to tackle any obstacle, but just a few careless words from Dean and he had felt himself plummeting back to the ground hard enough to hurt.

Because it hadn’t really meant anything to Dean.

Yes, he had made that abundantly clear and not only in how he had acted immediately after. But in how he had acted since. As if everything was back to normal, as if he hadn’t just thrown Castiel’s whole world off kilter. He was still joking around, still following Castiel dutifully, and still teaching the soldiers all about hunting.

Castiel wasn’t half as upset about his apparent forage into sex with men, something that was completely new and foreign to him, as he was upset about Dean’s inability to talk to him about it. Or, maybe not inability, maybe the man just didn’t want to talk about it, simply because he didn’t need a conversation.

Because maybe, to him, it wasn’t a big deal. Approaching the matter like that hurt even more, especially after Dean’s sweet words out in the forest right before they rode home to have sex. There had been so much emotion in the man’s tone and body then that Castiel hurt to think about it. Had it all been an act? Or was this the act? His head hurt just trying to figure it out.

Suddenly he couldn’t stand to look at Dean any longer and without saying anything he just got up and stalked out of the big room to find a smaller den and a plush couch to sit down on and sulk. Sulking was another thing he was very unaccustomed to and he didn’t know what to do with his arms. He kept crossing and uncrossing them, just waiting for Dean to come and find him, stewing in his own ineffectiveness to get Dean to talk to him.

It of course didn’t take Dean long to notice that Castiel was gone and Castiel didn’t know if he wanted to curse the man’s honed hunter instincts or not.

“So this is where you slipped off to?” Dean grinned and plopped down on the couch, uninvited. “Got tired of the bustle, huh?”

Castiel hated that Dean had come after him immediately because he no longer knew if the man did it because he wanted to or not. On the one hand Castiel loved his father for forcing Dean to become Castiel’s bodyguard and on the other hand he hated his father for the same reason, _because_ it _forced_ Dean to remain stuck to Castiel’s side.

How much of their interactions were even a choice on Dean’s part and how many were simply because he felt he had to please the Lord of the house?

“Well I suppose I can’t blame you,” Dean mumbled by his side. “There’s _a lot_ to do, apparently. But the cook said he’d make roasted quail for dinner, I’ve never had that so that’s nice.”

Castiel supposed Dean’s orgasms had been real, though, it was kind of hard to fake that, the man had even said so himself. And it seemed a bit much to initiate a physical relationship with Castiel simply because Dean wanted Lord Star to be happy. Besides, hadn’t Dean mentioned something about him being nervous about kissing Castiel because he thought either him or the Lord would be mad about it?

So he had wanted it but been afraid to do it, and ultimately found himself unable not to. That didn’t feel like he was forcing himself.

“Hey, do you want something to drink? Hanging all those damn banners made me thirsty.”

Dean’s chuckle made Castiel’s hair stand on end. What was the man even thinking? Sitting here, so close, so enticing, and pretending nothing had happened. Or was he pretending? Maybe he was moving on, he got what he needed after all. Was that it? Was Castiel just a convenient dick to be used to satisfy a need?

“Hey, you okay?” Dean looked concerned when Castiel turned to stare openly at him. “You’re kinda quiet.”

That damned silver ring that haunted Castiel’s dreams glinted in the sunlight that trickled in through the big bay windows. Thinking about it more rationally, Dean flirted liberally with both men and women, but Castiel hadn’t really seen him go any further.

“And your stare-y stare is getting starier.”

Probably because he was stuck with Castiel. Boring Castiel who didn’t have any friends other than the people his father forced to play with him. Except Castiel had never had sex with anyone of those before. Only Dean was—

Castiel’s spiralling thoughts were snapped off when Dean reached up to touch his cheek lightly.

“Cas?”

Castiel lunged before Dean had time to react, for all his hunter training he was clearly caught completely off guard when Castiel threw himself over him. He fisted the man’s shirt and pulled him in but not to kiss him. No, he needed to mark him again. He couldn’t see them, but he was sure that most of his old marks were still visible on Dean’s supple skin and he went crazy just thinking about it while being denied the sight.

Dean moaned throatily when Castiel sank his teeth in against the skin where the man’s neck met his shoulder. Not hard enough to draw blood, that would just be savage, but hard enough that he could feel Dean’s body yield to him and he felt a primal satisfaction at the feeling and taste.

“Cas, fuck…” Dean gasped but he wasn’t pulling away in the slightest. He was gripping Castiel’s clothes hard, arching up into the touch.

And when Castiel leaned back, pulling on Dean’s arms, the man went more than eagerly and in the next moment Castiel found himself with his lap full of Dean, getting the living daylights kissed out of him. Dean fisted Castiel’s hair, spreading his legs so that he sank down crotch to crotch with Castiel, and angled his head so that the kisses started out deep and urgent right away.

Hungrily, that was how Dean kissed him, and Castiel felt himself responding in kind, his dick already filling out against Dean’s own awakening one.

“Dean,” he growled into the kisses and the sound Dean let out was so deliciously submissive that Castiel thought he would lose his mind.

“Fucking hell, I want you Cas,” Dean panted. He moaned again when Castiel pushed his head to the side to get to the man’s abused neck. Licking and nipping the skin, he let his hands roam Dean’s back and ass, squeezing and kneading roughly.

Yes it was true that Castiel hadn’t been a blushing virgin when he and Dean engaged in sex the first time, but none of his past experiences had prepared him for the rapture Dean had showed him and he now felt addicted to it. For almost two days he had been deprived of this, caught in a limbo where he felt a need to talk about it and just wanting to do something about it.

In the end action had won over, it seemed, and Dean was melting in his hands. Maybe the man had just been waiting for Castiel? It seemed a likely possibility in the wake of Dean’s raw desire in this moment, but Castiel didn’t want to presume and chose instead to wait and force a conversation later.

Because now, now they were both hard and straining in their pants, Dean moaning breathlessly in his lap, Castiel driven mad with arousal and desperation.

“Let me do it this time,” he grunted, pressing his fingers in between Dean’s ass cheeks, as far as the man’s strange pants would let him.

Dean nodded, clearly understanding even though Castiel’s words were lacking. “Not here, though. Anyone’d walk in.”

“I suppose,” Castiel agreed reluctantly, hard-pressed to leave the position they were in.

“Do you still have that oil in your room?”

They hadn’t used all of it and Castiel certainly hadn’t touched it since, the scent only bringing memories he hadn’t been in a state of mind to remember alone.

“Yes, about half is still left.”

“Perfect.”

Dean rolled off Castiel’s lap with practiced ease, grabbing his hand and pulling Castiel to his feet in one smooth motion. It left Castiel reeling, too much of his blood in his groin to begin with. Dean looked glorious as he grinned cheekily at Castiel and he couldn’t help but use the man’s grip on his hand to pull him in for a new kiss.

Dean immediately leaned on him, responding with both his body and sounds. Dean was very good at kissing, much better than Castiel, but he willingly yielded to Castiel, seemingly wanting to be dominated and it thrilled Castiel to no end. Dean was normally so assertive and brazen and to have him mewling like this set a fire in Castiel that he never wanted to quell.

It took Dean thumbing Castiel’s dick through his pants to make Castiel start moving again. For how much he wanted to just thrown Dean over the couch and fuck him hard, he definitely didn’t want anyone seeing them. Not because he was scared of any kind of repercussions, but because he didn’t want to share Dean in the throes of passion.

Suddenly he was irrationally jealous of all of Dean’s past lovers and he forgot, for a moment, that Dean wasn’t really his and would be leaving in just a few days. In this moment, Dean was Castiel’s man and he wouldn’t share him even if Castiel’s own life depended on it.

“Come on,” he growled, his grip on Dean’s hand tightening as he started walking in the direction of his room, careful to choose the backdoors in the hopes of meeting as few people as possible.

Dean stumbled along quietly, but he squeezed Castiel’s hand back so hard his ring dug in, assuring Castiel that he wanted this just as much.

Castiel’s determination didn’t waver but when they got behind closed doors his inexperience kicked in and he found himself just standing there for a moment, staring at the bed. And then Dean was there, leaning against his back and hugging him, speaking against his ear.

“How do you want me, little Lord?”

A pleasurable shiver ran through Castiel’s body. He really didn’t know what it was about that nickname, thought in reality that it should sound condescending, but he loved it. Just like that time in the bath and last time they were in this room, Castiel felt an immense sense of belonging when he heard it.

He responded by turning around and kissing Dean, nipping his lower lip. “On the bed, in the position you like the best for getting pounded hard.”

Dean’s breathing hitched and he set in motion getting undressed. If Castiel was truthful he didn’t really know if he wanted to make love to Dean or fuck him more, but since he didn’t seem able to sort through his own feelings, and was otherwise unable to connect with Dean on this topic, he shoved his indecisiveness to the back of his mind for now.

He wanted to hold Dean more than anything and the man seemed to respond well to rougher treatment. Maybe it was because it satisfied his baser needs and maybe that was all he needed, or maybe it was how he experienced love. Castiel didn’t know and once again forced himself to focus on the situation at hand. They would talk _after_ , he would make sure of that.

He hastened to get out of his own clothes when Dean wriggled out of his underpants and got on the bed. The man’s ass was too perfectly round to even be real, the give of it extraordinary under Castiel’s hands and suddenly all he wanted, more than to plunge his dick into Dean’s hole, was to bite that soft ass.

He reined himself in for a moment and went to fetch the oil from his nightstand. With that in hand he climbed on the bed as well, pleased to see that Dean had put himself on all fours. He looked over his shoulder at Castiel, grinning through his obvious lust, and then lowered his chest to the bed, positively _presenting_ his plump ass.

“Like this, Cas,” he mumbled in a husky voice that sent spikes of scalding hot _want_ through Castiel. “Use your fingers to open me up for you.”

If Castiel’s hands shook it was merely because he was so unbelievably aroused and not because he was nervous anymore. Of course he was still cautious about hurting Dean, but he felt secure with him, safe in the knowledge that Dean would guide him through it.

When his finger first breached Dean’s hole, Castiel thought he would burn up from the searing need he felt coursing through him. Dean was so hot inside, so soft, and so _tight_. To think that he had already had his dick inside here, the notion seemed implausible in this moment.

But Dean swallowed Castiel’s finger with a deep groan, muscle relaxing around him, and Castiel felt awed in a way he hadn’t even felt when he first lost his virginity.

“Tell me,” he almost croaked. “If it hurts, you have to tell me.”

“Your fingers are too fucking perfect for my ass to hurt,” Dean moaned, completely blowing Castiel’s mind.

He shuddered and grabbed Dean’s ass cheek in his hand as he started moving his finger in and out. Dean hadn’t done this very long to himself but since Castiel didn’t know for sure, he aimed at erring on the safe side. When he was two finger deep and spreading them ever so often, Dean started writhing restlessly. Castiel was so hard he was leaking precome, also something that had never really happened with anyone else. Hell, with those two women he had barely been able to sustain an erection and he had later told himself that maybe it just wasn’t for him. Not everyone liked having sex that much, after all.

But now, with Dean, it was clear to Castiel that either he had simply tried it with the wrong gender or he had been waiting for Dean. Either thought seemed equally true in this moment.

“Fuck, Cas, your fingers,” Dean slurred suddenly and Castiel bit the inside of his cheek to keep from groaning too loud.

“Do you enjoy them?”

“Yeah,” Dean slid down on the bed, leg spreading wider and ass clenching as Cas pulled out. “Find the prostate.”

“The what?” Castiel couldn’t resist any longer and shuffled down the bed so that he could bend until he could kiss and lick Dean’s left ass cheek. The scent of the oil was powerful but it didn’t completely overshadow the scent of Dean’s skin, not when Castiel pressed his nose close and inhaled sharply.

“It’s… in there, feels good.”

It was hard to tell if Dean was just unable to explain it, or so completely drunk on lust that he couldn’t form complete sentences. Either way Castiel understood enough and he added more oil so that he could press in three fingers and reach more.

Dean moaned, high-pitched and desperate, and the sound was in such contrast to his manly build and general cocky attitude that it ramped up Castiel’s arousal somewhat fierce. Before he could stop himself he had bitten down on Dean’s ass, making the man’s body jolt. Goosebumps spread on Castiel’s skin as fresh pleasure shot through him in searing waves.

Then suddenly Dean bucked, gasping sharply. Castiel followed the motion and pressed his fingers against the place that had produced the reaction. Dean’s body shook and he groaned, begging for more without using words, and Castiel bit down again, desperate to leave his claim on this beautiful man.

“Fuck, wait—Cas, _Cas_ , wait, I—”

They nearly toppled over when Dean released one of his hands from the sheets to shove it between his legs.

“Did I hurt you?” Castiel’s mind immediately went to the ruddy marks he had left on Dean’s soft ass. Pride and concern warred inside him until he saw Dean shaking his head vehemently.

“Fuck no, I was just…” he heaved a deep breath and relaxed again, looking over his shoulder almost sheepishly. “I was about to come, wanna do it on your cock.”

Pleasure so immediate that Castiel almost thought he had climaxed washed over him and he doubled over, planting his face against Dean’s ass as his fingers slipped out. His dick jumped and his balls ached, release teetering just there, and he grabbed himself in a vain attempt at calming down.

“Can I?” he panted, licking Dean’s skin when the man moaned at the sound of his voice. “Are you prepared enough?”

“Yeah,” Dean breathed, clearly as far gone as Castiel himself. “Fuck me hard, little Lord.”

Just like last time, Castiel slid in strangely smoothly. He didn’t know if it was Dean’s body specifically or if this hole in general was actually meant to be taking it but he had thought there would be more resistance. Maybe Dean wasn’t even human himself, Castiel had read about demons coming to seduce men to their graves, at this point he was willing to believe anything.

And then he was all the way inside and he stopped thinking for a moment, mind going blissfully blank as fresh pleasure washed over him. Tight heat squeezed him, robbing him of his breath, and he dug in his fingernails against Dean’s hips, struggling to catch his breath.

“Dean,” he groaned, rocking his hips slightly. “I’m moving.”

Dean let out his own breath in a great whoosh when Castiel started pulling out and when he pushed inside again it felt like the man was sucking him in. Dean arched his back, moaning gutturally as he started moving together with Castiel’s increasingly hard and fast thrusts.

The sound their bodies made was filthy and Castiel absolutely loved it, it added to his arousal, sending spikes through him and when he pushed in too hard without meaning to it made Dean hiss loudly.

“I’m sorry,” Castiel panted, lowering himself over Dean’s back. “I’m sorry, I’m too rough.”

“No,” Dean grunted, pushing back as much as he could with Castiel’s weight on him. “I fucking love it, come on,” he was fisting the sheets so hard his knuckles were turning white. “Touch my dick, Cas.”

Castiel muffled a moan against Dean’s back and did his best to comply. One hand on Dean’s hip, he kept up his hard thrusting, completely unable to stop when the pleasure he derived from it was so immense he felt as if he was being swallowed entirely.

Dean made a strangled sound when Castiel wrapped his oil slick hand around the man’s iron hard dick and Castiel couldn’t help but put his teeth to Dean’s skin again when he started pumping his hand. He tried vainly to keep the strokes in time with his hips but his brain was too melted to accomplish something as complicated as that.

Instead he did his best to just make sure that his hand didn’t stop as he chased his own high.

“Fucking _use_ me, Cas,” Dean suddenly moaned, sounding almost broken and Castiel’s body lurched forward, pressing Dean even harder down against the bed. “Wanna feel you for _days_.”

 _“Even as he leaves,”_ Castiel found himself thinking, his mind swirling with emotions as his orgasm crashed over him. _“He wants to feel me even after he’s left me.”_

It was very feral, the way Castiel desired to mark and own Dean in that moment.

Their bodies were sweaty, Castiel’s hand slipping on Dean’s hip and Dean’s whole body shuddering in his pleasure. Castiel didn’t know what a prostate was but he was pretty damn sure he was managing to hit it with his dick and that Dean liked it because the man kept up a litany of moans and broken praise.

“Dean,” he could feel the inevitable build cresting almost painfully. “Dean, I can’t hold...”

“Yeah,” Dean strained to look over his shoulder and Castiel immediately seized on the opportunity to kiss him.

It was crooked and sloppy and absolutely perfect. Dean moaned into it, curling his tongue around Castiel’s and Castiel thrusted desperately, keen on making Dean come first but wholly unable to keep his climax at bay for much longer.

“Gods, _Dean_.”

It was too much, the pleasure burning too hot. Dean jerked his head away and bucked back hard.

“ _Fuck_ , Cas!”

And Castiel could feel it, just like he could feel it when he stroked his own dick, how Dean’s positively expanded in his hand, becoming impossibly harder in the moment before coming. Castiel groaned, loving the feeling and deriving pleasure in knowing it was him that had driven Dean to this point. He sucked a blossoming red mark on Dean’s shoulder just as the man shouted out his release against Castiel’s pillow.

The rippling of Dean’s inner walls was too much for Castiel’s already bursting dick and he cried out too, hoarse and short, as he was completely overwhelmed by his orgasm. His dick pumped in Dean’s ass and the man moaned under him as if he could feel it. Castiel liked to think that he did and couldn’t stop humping into Dean for several moments after.

“Holy _shit_ , Cas,” Dean eventually rumbled and Castiel couldn’t help but feel apprehension seep in.

Would Dean just roll out of bed and stroll away this time too? No, Castiel had made the decision to talk to him and he felt resolute, needing to see it through.

When he pulled out he took a moment to thumb Dean’s puffy little hole, feeling animalistically proud when his release leaked out. He smeared it in for a moment, licking his lips unconsciously as his mind wandered.

“You gonna rim me or just stare all day, big boy?”

The dryness in Dean’s tone made Castiel snap back to reality and he looked up to meet Dean’s eyes with an embarrassed look.

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be,” Dean snorted and pulled away a little but thankfully only enough for him to flop down on his side. Castiel tentatively stretched out on his back beside the man. “I wouldn’t say no to some felching, just saying.”

“I don’t know what that is.”

“Oh,” Dean turned onto his back too, grimacing as he stretched out his legs. “It’s a sex kink, I suppose. Or sex act or whatever. You’d suck your own spunk out of my ass.”

Castiel felt himself almost choking on new arousal. What was it about this man? So crude and yet so tantalizing.

“I’d… I mean, I wouldn’t mind… if, I mean if _you_ …”

“Jesus, Cas,” Dean laughed and turned on his side, facing Castiel as he rose to lean on his elbow so he could kiss Castiel quickly. “We ain’t gonna pop every cherry you got all at the same time. Relax.”

To be perfectly honest Castiel hadn’t understood a thing Dean just said. All he definitely understood was that the sex was over for now and that that possibly meant Dean leaving the bed, and him, again. His hand shot out to grip Dean’s arm even before he had made a conscious decision to do so.

“Dean, please don’t leave.”

The change in Dean was almost palpable. He sunk back against the bed with a sigh and though his mood worsened considerably, Castiel still took the fact that he was still there as a win.

“Cas, look… I’m sorry for how I treated you before, okay? That was shitty of me. But,” he closed his eyes for a moment and then turned his head to meet Castiel’s gaze head on. “I have to leave, okay? I mean, I ain’t sticking around after the harvest festival but how about we just enjoy these last couple of days, huh?”

“You said you weren’t good for things that come after sex,” Castiel mumbled, casting his eyes down and swallowing slowly. He was happy to hear that Dean regretted how he had acted before, clearly them being intimate affected Dean as well. He was still leaving, though. “But you don’t have to feel insecure about that; I’m not either. I have never had a relationship at all, I haven’t even tried. Why can’t we be bad together?”

It felt as if his whole body was cast in ice, the words choppy as he forced them out and he realized he had never been this afraid in his whole life and he wasn’t even surprised. He was simply afraid of Dean leaving him, that the man had made such an impression on him in such a short time was laughable but no less true.

“Because, Cas,” Dean sighed, combing a hand through his sweaty hair. “Because you’re a Lord’s son and you belong with your people.”

“That’s more Jonah’s place than mine, though.”

Dean looked definitively at him. “I would like to stay but I can’t, I simply _can’t_ , Cas.”

The determination in his tone made Castiel frown. He didn’t understand and he hated the feeling.

“Then maybe I could come with you?”

“No.”

Dean winced when Castiel couldn’t keep the hurt off his face. “Oh.”

He turned to roll away, to sit up, to _get away_ from that one word, the finality in it.

“No, wait Cas, I,” Dean sighed again, hand grabbing Castiel and keeping him from leaving unless Castiel wanted to make an effort and Gods help him but he wanted to remain by Dean’s side. He kept his head turned away, though, the act of defiance petulant but all he had. “Fuck, I know how that sounded, now you’re gonna think I don’t want to be around you and that’s not true, that’s the furthest thing from what I want.”

“Then what _do_ you want?” he snapped before he could stop himself, turning to face Dean with a deep frown. “I don’t understand you at all.”

“If it were up to me, I’d fucking marry your ass, Cas,” Dean snapped back but the fight left him the moment his words did and he pressed back against the pillow as Castiel could only stare wide-eyed at him. “I’m not from around here,” he mumbled after a moment spent in stunned silence, sounding so tired that Castiel’s heart ached.

“I know,” he answered hesitantly, unsure what that had to do with marriage.

“No, you don’t,” Dean stated and heaved himself up into a sitting position, sliding over to the edge of the bed. “I wasn’t gonna tell you, I just wanted some happy days with you before I leave but fuck,” he turned to look at Castiel with sad eyes. “If I end up hurting you it’s not fair.”

“Dean…” he reached for the man but Dean didn’t take his hand.

“I’m not from around here at all, okay? Not from this whole world.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean,” Dean pursed his lips for a moment, thoughtful. “Remember when I made that scholar show me a map of the explored parts of this world?”

It had been on Dean’s second day here. “I do, you seemed quite overwhelmed. I thought it was because you were impressed with how much our explorers have managed to map out.”

“No, well,” Dean smiled a little. “That too, but mostly I was shitting my pants because that map proved to me that I ain’t even on the same planet.”

This was all a bit hard for Castiel to grasp. He sat up to lean against the headboard, a confused frown on his lips. “Planet?”

“Shit… just, okay,” Dean combed a hand through his hair again. “Listen, I’m not from this _world_ , okay?” his eyes looked so imploring and Castiel desperately wanted to understand him.

“Not even… from another country?”

Dean grimaced and looked away. “I haven’t even heard about your countries before,” he muttered, more to himself. “I just touched those goddamn stones, got an electric shock or whatever, and then I woke up here,” he looked at Castiel with his brow furrowed. “I walked around for a while in that forest, looking for my car, and then I found you guys. I seriously thought you were a bunch of geeks playing in the woods or whatever. Recognized the vamp quickly enough, though.”

There was so much Castiel wanted to ask about but he had to take it one question at a time. “Why did you come with us?”

“Because I couldn’t get a signal on my phone all of a sudden and I thought that whatever basecamp you guys had would have enough for me to call my brother.”

It felt like Castiel’s brain was screaming in distress. “What?”

Dean smiled kindly. “When you took me here I thought that I had been transported back in time, spirited away or whatever.”

“Back in time?”

“Yeah, at first I thought this looked kinda like my world in the medieval times. And I mean, somehow time travel seems much more logical than dimension jumping, y’know?”

Castiel’s stomach churned. What was this man that he had invited into his home and bed? Castiel felt as if he should be scared but somehow his heart was thumping faster not because of fear but because of excitement.

“Medieval?” he pressed out, desperate to keep up with _something_.

Dean’s smile was getting sadder, as if he was sensing Castiel’s mounting confusion. “Yeah, it was like, I dunno, in the 11th century or something. Maybe 12th? Sam would know.”

“Sam? Your brother?”

“Yeah, he’s back home. He doesn’t know what happened to me, if we assume time flows the same here as it does at home then I’ve been missing for almost a month,” now Dean truly looked sad. “Last he heard from me I was restoring a grave after salting and burning a ghost.”

“Like Mad Mary,” Castiel mumbled, trying to find some logic in all this. Dean looked up, nodding.

“Yeah.”

“What…” Castiel was almost afraid of the question. “What century do you live in, then?”

Dean’s look of sympathy told Castiel this wouldn’t be good. “21st,” he mumbled. “So you see this has been a bit jarring for me.”

“I do see,” Castiel felt paralyzed. No wonder Dean wanted to leave, this must truly have been hell for him so far. Well, he had always in a way felt that Dean was otherworldly somehow, but he hadn’t really believe it to be so accurate. And the prospect scared him, not only because of the chance that someone else might stumble into their world, but because if Dean left he left for good.

Dean reached over to put his hand over Castiel’s, squeezing it. “Now do you understand why I can’t take you with me?”

Castiel almost laughed but managed to smother it. “Of course.”

“So you believe me?”

“Dean,” he sighed, and grabbed Dean’s hand in his, looking down at them, eye catching on the ring he had come to love so much. “The things you’ve showed me, the knowledge you possess... _of course_ I believe you. And I guess I’ve always kind of felt it, how different you are,” he looked up, meeting Dean’s astonished eyes. “You’re too brave, too handsome, too willing to spend time with someone like me, to really be from around here. You don’t fit in, not in that sense. And of course I won’t keep you from your home, I wouldn’t dream of standing in your way.”

“Cas,” Dean slid closer on the bed, his body warm where they touched. “It’s not that I don’t want you with me, okay? It’s just… I can’t force you to abandon your world just because I refuse to abandon mine.”

“But it’s different for you,” Castiel couldn’t help how the argument bubbled up inside him. “You didn’t make the decision consciously, right? You didn’t get to choose.”

“That’s true,” Dean mumbled and Castiel felt a thrill go through him at the thought that maybe he had reached through the other man’s walls. “Maybe if I had things would be different, huh?”

“Maybe,” Castiel nodded to emphasize his point and Dean seemed helpless not to smile.

“Yeah,” Dean mumbled and then suddenly stood up. “Wait here, I wanna show you something.”

He retreated into his own room before Castiel could protest and the emptiness he left behind felt immense. Castiel felt smothered by it, bile rising in his throat. Was this how every day would be like after the harvest festival? Would the emptiness that Dean left behind then grow and fester until it consumed Castiel, leaving nothing but a shadow of the man he had been? In this moment that seemed more a reality than a mere possibility.

Then Dean was back, carrying his beloved jacket, and Castiel forced himself to seem calm.

“Your jacket?”

“Not only that, this,” Dean pulled on that strange metal thing that somehow close up the pockets on his jacket. It came apart with a jagged sound, and Dean pulled out several items from the pocket. “My wallet,” he threw a leather square on the bed. “My car keys,” there was that word again, car. “And _this_ ,” he sat down and handed Castiel a black, shiny square.

The material felt unfamiliar in his hands and he turned it over several times without finding its function. There was a crack in it and when he prodded at it, the thing opened up and became twice as long and half as thick.

“Did I break it?”

“No,” Dean grinned at him. “It does that. It’s a flip-phone.”

“Phone? You said that before, and ‘car’ too.”

“Yeah, a car is like a horse carriage but without horses. I guess with that steampunk power you’ve got you could maybe build one.”

“Steampunk…? You mean the water system for the crops?”

Dean nodded, still grinning. “Yeah, that was another indicator that I wasn’t just transported back in time, there were no machines like that in medieval times back at home for sure.”

“And you have one? A car?”

“Best one there is,” Dean sounded as proud as father did when he spoke of Jonah and Castiel’s accomplishments. “The only gal I’ve ever had a lasting relationship with.”

Castiel wasn’t really sure what Dean meant by that but decided to ask later. “And this?” he held up the phone, curiosity burning through him. If Dean had decided to show Castiel these items in the hopes of scaring him off he had sorely miscalculated Castiel’s reactions. These thing were all a part of Dean, all part of the man’s life; of a grand adventure.

“Yeah, that,” Dean took it from him and pointed to one half of it, covered in numbers and other symbols. “It’s used for making phone calls. Like, if we were home and you were in another town with a phone of your own I could call you and we could talk.”

“But… how long would that take?”

“For the call to connect, a couple of seconds, then we could talk indefinitely. Or I suppose it depends on your phone plan,” Dean snorted out a chuckle as if that had been some kind of joke but it all went over Castiel’s head.

“But why would you do that? Call me?”

“If I had something to say that couldn’t wait until we meet up,” Dean smiled at him, clearly enjoying this exchange and that made Castiel even more hopeful that Dean might take Castiel with him. “Like, when Jonah was away on that conference or whatever it was, if there had been something he had wanted to tell your dad before he left, they could have talked over the phone.”

Castiel was starting to see definite benefits with this. “Can you show me?”

“Ah, no,” Dean folded the phone again and put it on the bed. “It doesn’t work if there’s only one phone in the whole world. Plus I don’t wanna waste battery, if I do manage to get home I have to use it to call Sammy.”

Castiel wasn’t sure what much of that meant but the last part brought him back to their earlier conversation. This whole thing had made him even more sure that he wanted to come with Dean, but he also suddenly understood the immense pressure Dean was under.

He took one of Dean’s hands in his, stroking his thumb over the back of it. “Let’s do what you said.”

“What did I say?” Dean asked, clearly apprehensive.

“Let’s enjoy these last couple of days together. Don’t leave to sleep in your own bed, indulge me and sleep in here with me.”

“Cas,” a beautiful flush spread up Dean’s neck. “Do you think that’s appropriate? What if someone sees me in here when we’re sleeping?”

“I meant it when I said I can do whatever I want,” he smiled a little sadly. “Almost anything,” because he was still going to be left behind, wasn’t he? “You said you got scared when you saw the map, let me make your time here a little easier, what’s left of it.”

“You already have,” Dean mumbled, eyes downcast but a pleased smile playing at his enticing lips. “How do you think I’ve been able to stay calm? Fucking hell, I felt hysterical for a while but spending time with you kept my mind from wandering too much. That and hunting, I suppose, that felt like home.”

Castiel couldn’t help how his chest swelled when he heard Dean speak like this. He supposed there was no denying it anymore, somehow Dean had managed to worm his way into Castiel’s heart, in a way he had barely spared a thought to before. Or even thought capable.

And once he accepted that as the truth he felt much lighter, and more determined.

“Please let me remain by your side,” he mumbled, and meant for more than just these coming few days.

“Yeah,” Dean answered after a long while of just looking at each other, and it was impossible to tell if he was just agreeing to the sleeping arrangement or if he was agreeing to take Castiel with him when he left for good.

Either way, Castiel supposed it was good enough for now, there were still almost four days until the Ravens usually arrived. He would have plenty of time to come up with better arguments to try and sway Dean’s mind.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yay for the truth! Well, as much truth as either of them could manage at this point lol  
> Next chapter will be the last chapter :D


	8. Chapter 8

 

 

On the morning of the harvest festival Dean was lying awake kind of low-key freaking the fuck out.

The first wagons of the Ravens had been spotted already the day before and by evening they had settled in at their usually spot between the outskirts of town and the rice fields. Madame Eve wasn’t among them, though, and would most likely arrive today. So, in that aspect, Dean might be going home as soon as tonight and it was terrifying him on so many levels, after everything that he had come to accept about this situation he’d found himself in.

The first night of sleeping in Cas’ bed Dean had barely been able to fall asleep, too worked up about the fact that he was next to Cas, this wonderful man that he was in love wi—panicked, he had turned to Cas, reaching out and grabbing the man’s wrist.

Cas’ whole body had jerked as he was abruptly awoken. “Dean?” he’d asked, groggily.

“Yeah, Cas, I…” fuck, Dean hadn’t known what he was doing. “Uh, nothing, you can go back to sleep. I just… I was, I dunno, I…”

Cas had reached up and squeezed Dean’s hand. “I know,” he had mumbled, brushing his thumb over Dean’s clammy skin. “I know.”

They’d slept entangled that night and Dean had never slept better.

He turned his head on the pillow and looked at Cas’ sleeping face now. He looked like a goddamn angel. Dean couldn’t fucking believe Cas had asked to come with him and he couldn’t believe he had told the man no. Well, it had been the right choice because Cas hadn’t known all the details. Now he did, though.

Dean quirked his lips, thinking of Cas’ enthusiasm over the last few days. Every second they were alone had been spent either asking Dean a multitude of questions or having vigorous sex. Dean didn’t know if Cas was aiming at convincing Dean to stay or to let him come with when Dean left. Either way was kind of working because Dean felt hollow just imagining having to live without Cas now.

A part of him, a _mean_ part, had reasoned that maybe he was just this attached to Cas because he was simply a nice, good-looking guy who had provided stability and comfort for Dean during this trial. Kind of like how characters in a movie fell in love after having been in a disaster together.

But just looking at Cas right now, Dean knew that wasn’t true. And maybe that was what was freaking him out too. He had never been in love, he didn’t know what it felt like, but he thought that maybe this searing sensation that coursed through him might be it. And fucking hell, he had talked to Cas about relationships, Dean not being good enough for them, and _marriage_ , not only once but _several_ times. How the fuck wasn’t Cas fleeing for the woods yet?

Dean rolled to his side, jostling the bed slightly but Cas just kept breathing evenly, deep in sleep. Cas didn’t seem like the kind of guy who would run at the first sign of trouble, though.

“Would you set me straight if I fuck it up?” he mumbled, watching as Cas turned to lie on his back. “Would you fight for me even when I’m an ass?”

Dean thought maybe Cas would. Maybe Cas would be the kind of man who would love Dean the most when he deserved it the least, simply because he would need it the most then. The point was that Dean couldn’t put Cas through all that shit without being absolutely sure that that was what Cas wanted.

Cas had asked once to accompany Dean when he left and Dean had denied him, simply because he couldn’t put Cas through that. But then he had gone and told the man the whole truth and that felt very liberating. Because now Cas knew it all and he could make a more informed decision. He hadn’t brought it up again, and Dean would be damned if he was going to do it himself, but if Cas asked again, _then_ Dean had decided that he would say yes.

Leaving all the people he had gotten to know behind would be a bummer but leaving Cas felt like swallowing glass, but still he couldn’t make himself force the man so he wouldn’t broach the subject again on his own.

But if Cas, after having heard all about the differences between their worlds, after having learned what a huge sacrifice it would mean for him, after coming to terms with the fact that he might not be able to ever see his family again, if Cas _after all that_ still wanted to come with Dean, if he still chose Dean after thinking every aspect through then yeah, Dean would gladly accept the man.

Dean suddenly felt giddy at the prospect but wasn’t sure he was entitled to just yet.

He wished he had someone to talk to about this. Cas’ brother Jonah seemed cool enough but Dean hadn’t spent enough time with him to know if he wanted to share something so delicate. Realistically he should have talked to Lord Star, since Dean in a sense would be robbing the old man of one of his sons if Cas left with Dean, but Dean definitely didn’t want to discuss something so intimate with the Lord. Although Lord Star had indicated that Cas was looking for adventure in his life, so maybe he already knew something.

In the end Dean had accidentally blurted it out to Captain Rutherford, a man that Dean truly had come to respect.

Well, he didn’t exactly blurt out everything, just that Cas might want to come with him and that Dean didn’t know if that would be a good thing or not.

“Do you not want that?” the captain had asked and Dean had been so glad they were alone in the captain’s office for the moment.

“I do,” he had mumbled, leaning on the table and hanging his head. “But it’s dangerous and he might not be able to return here, ever.”

There had been a pregnant silence but Dean had refused to elaborate on why return might be impossible. Clearly the captain had been unable to understand why but in the end he had relented and moved on, thank god.

“Does Lord Castiel know that?”

“Yeah.”

And maybe that was why he wasn’t talking about travelling with Dean anymore…

“Well, if he is aware of the dangers and he still wants to come, and you would like his company, then I don’t see an issue. The young Lord is after all the happiest when he’s with you, I am sure everyone would just want what’s best for him.”

When Dean had looked up, the old soldier had looked calmly at him. “You think so?”

“I know so,” Captain Rutherford had smiled probably the widest smile Dean had seen on the man’s face so far, which was still not very wide, as smiles go. “Lord Castiel is well into the age where he should hold an office at his father’s court and he should be married, yet Lord Star has never pressed the issue with his youngest son.”

“Because he knows Cas is bored,” Dean had nodded and Captain Rutherford grunted in agreement.

“Lord Castiel takes after his mother. She was very in love with Lord Star but she was not of this country and you could see the longing for travel in her eyes sometimes. She used to gaze at the horizon the same way Lord Castiel does,” his smile had turned a tad bit melancholic. “Their spirits are the restless kind, yearning for something more.”

“Then maybe,” Dean had swallowed and dared smile himself. “Maybe Lord Star wouldn’t behead me for abducting his son?”

Captain Rutherford had chuckled, a sound that had surprised Dean but also filled him with a strange kind of happiness. “I’d daresay he would thank you. Lord Star loves his sons, he wants them to be happy.”

Even now, in the dim light of the morning as Dean lay watching Cas sleep, he recalled a very similar conversation that he had had with Lord Star just before Jonah’s arrival. Maybe Cas’ friends and family actually saw more than Dean gave them credit for.

“You deserve the world, Cas,” Dean whispered and reached out to trail his fingers down Cas’ naked chest. “Everyone thinks so.”

Yeah, Cas might not have many close friends but that was just because people didn’t _get_ him, they couldn’t connect with him, but they still wished him well. Dean was sure Cas would have many friends if he came with Dean. Sam was sure to love Cas’ intelligence, for one. And hunting, Dean wasn’t too happy to bring Cas into dangerous situations but he had to admit that the man had done very well with Mad Mary. And he certainly knew how to fight. Put a silver blade in Cas’ hands and he’d be chopping all kinds of monsters left and right.

Dean squeezed his eyes shut for a moment, overwhelmed by images of Cas together with him and Sammy in Baby, driving around the country, eating greasy diner food, and researching cases. Cas in a fed suit, dorking around with Sam and laughing at Dean when he didn’t get their smarty-pants jokes.

Motel sex.

Dean opened his eyes. The harvest festival was here, Madame Eve would arrive sometime today, and though Dean didn’t know for sure he was assuming he would be going home soon. It wouldn’t be too far-fetched to assume that the Hornet Rocks did their thing during the full moon, and there was one tonight so Dean was prepared for that.

He moved silently, pulling the duvet off Cas’ mostly naked body. Cas moved some and he was clearly waking up soon, but he was still unconscious and Dean decided to take advantage of that to have some last minute fun.

Cas always smelled so good, of musk and spice, and Dean paused for a moment after he had pulled down Cas’ underwear to press his nose against the crook of Cas’ hip, just where it met his thigh. Cas’ dick was still soft, sleeping as peacefully as its master and Dean smiled to himself. For all the sex stuff they had done so far he couldn’t believe they hadn’t exchanged blowjobs yet. Dean fucking loved sucking dick. It was such a power rush to feel the trust that came with a dude sticking their favorite body part between Dean’s sharp teeth.

He turned to nose against Cas’ balls, surprisingly full considering he had emptied all over Dean’s chest just yesterday. Poor guy was probably pent up after years of only jerking off. Well, now Dean was here to take care of him.

Dean dragged his tongue along the whole length of Cas’ dick, slow and languid, and it didn’t take much licking for it to start filling out. Dean fucking loved feeling soft dicks turn hard inside his mouth so he shifted to swallow it down whole. Fully erect, Cas’ dick was a mouthful, but right now it was still small enough that Dean could swallow him to the hilt and not choke.

He wriggled down to lie flat on his stomach, propped up on his elbows and chest leaned against Cas’ thighs as he hummed contently around Cas’ growing dick. Fuck yeah, Cas tasted so good.

“Dean,” Cas suddenly mumbled, shifting restlessly and Dean peeked up at him. Yeah, Cas was waking up now for sure but he hadn’t opened his eyes yet.

Encouraged by the fact that Cas’ mind went to him even when sleeping, Dean sucked harder and earned himself a gasp. He moved with Cas’ body when he rolled his hips slightly, his dick soon completely hard. Dean was getting hard himself but that seemed less important in this moment, for now he was content to rub it against the bed as he continued to suckle Cas’ dick.

“Dean, what…?”

He pulled off when Cas’ voice got less groggy and more confused. Releasing Cas’ dick with a pop he lapped at the swollen head, grinning when Cas’ eyes opened to stare down at him in shock.

“Happy harvest festival, milord,” he purred, holding Cas’ dick still with his right hand.

Cas made a strangled sound and reached down to grab Dean’s wrist. “Don’t… please don’t stop.”

His dick quivered when Dean winked. “As you say, milord.”

This time when he aimed at swallowing as much he could he didn’t get all the way down to the hilt. Cas’ dick had grown impossibly hard, thick and trembling, and it filled out his mouth so good, hitting the back of his throat and making him moan.

“Gods, _Dean_ ,” Cas groaned, hips jerking and though Dean was always up for some face-fucking he felt like teasing today so he grabbed Cas’ hips in a strong grip and pressed him down against the bed.

Cas made a sweet sound and Dean thought for the first time that maybe Cas would be up for switching positions in bed. Now there was a thought… Dean loved bottoming for men but he couldn’t deny that it could be hot to have Cas dangling off his dick.

“Just feel, Cas,” he rasped and sucked on Cas’ dick with exaggerated slurping sounds.

Tongue snaking and prodding, throat muscles working around the head, saliva coating and making everything slick, yeah Dean was pulling out all his tricks, intent on making this blowjob the best in Cas’ life.

And judging by how Cas sounded and how desperately he twitched in Dean’s hands, he was fucking feeling it alright. His dick was hard and heavy on Dean’s tongue, so full the vein was bulging and Dean took perverse satisfaction in prodding at the slit with his tongue, just to hear Cas make the most perfect sounds.

“Dean, I think I’m…” fucking hell, he was almost sobbing…

Dean grinded heavily against the bed, moaning and sucking harder as he pulled off.

“Touch your nipples, little Lord,” he demanded a in a growl. “Lemme see you play with yourself.”

Cas hissed when he put his fingers to his nipples, pinching and rolling them into hard nubs.

 _“So obedient,”_ Dean thought with no small amount of satisfaction. Shit, if only they had _time_ , there was so much he could do with Cas, so much he could show him. So much he wanted to experience with him.

“Dean, I-I _really_ need…”

Dean held Cas’ dick in his right hand, relenting his grip on the man’s hips so that Cas could fuck up into his fist for a moment.

“Yeah, come on Cas, wanna feel you come,” fuck it, that wasn’t what he really wanted. “Wanna swallow,” he added in a sultry slur, licking over the leaking head.

Cas fucking choked, eyes big, and when Dean sucked him down in the next moment there really wasn’t much stopping Cas’ orgasm. He arched his back, hands coming down to grab at Dean’s shoulders as his dick spurted Dean’s mouth full. And fuck, Dean felt such a rush when he felt it on his tongue, eagerly swallowing it down.

His own dick ached and he had to shove a hand down there to grab it and as soon as he’d closed his fingers around himself he knew he wouldn't be able to stop. He gasped, releasing Cas’ dick but immediately going for it again as he started fucking into his own hand.

“Dean,” Cas groaned when Dean licked at his dick and balls. “Come up here, let me help you.”

Actually Dean was kind of too far gone to make it that far, probably, but he made a valiant effort and manage to sit up on his knees. As soon as Cas’ hand wrapped around his balls, Dean’s dick went off like a goddamn rocket. He threw his head back, groaning as he came all over Cas, pumping several powerful bursts before he sagged down.

Cas immediately grabbed Dean’s neck, angling his head so that they could kiss, and Dean melted into it, climbing into Cas’ lap when the man pulled him closer.

“Just felt like waking you up all nice,” Dean smiled and couldn’t help but rub his spent dick against Cas’, both getting covered in Dean’s still warm spunk. “Didn’t mean to make a mess.”

“I like your messes,” Cas answered, all breathless and fucking adorable.

“Flatterer,” Dean mumbled and went in for another kiss, revelling in Cas’ attention and the quiet of the morning. Soon the day would start and neither of them knew how it would end but this moment was only theirs, for a little while longer.

 

*********

 

The inside of Madam Eve’s wagon smelled heavily of old incense and fresh flowers. It was cramped, filled with shelves of pots and jars, and Dean tried to make himself as small as possible as they crowded into the wagon around the small table that Madam Eve sat at.

She was a truly old woman, eyes white with cataract and skin like the wrinkliest prune Dean had ever seen. And it felt like a dry leafs, brittle and almost see-through, but when she grabbed Dean’s hand in greeting the grip was strong and her smile, though mostly toothless, seemed sincere.

Dean had brought her a pumpkin pie, because Cas had told him he should have an offering with him and Jonah had suggested something he loved himself.

“I helped make it myself,” he mumbled when he handed it over and Madam Eve’s blind eyes shifted up to his face as an interested mumble rose from the group of Ravens behind him.

Cas patted Dean on the arm and Dean felt very grateful that the man had decided to come along, though he was loath to admit just how relieved he felt for fear of insulting someone. So far the Ravens seemed just as kind as everyone said they were but Dean was happy to have Cas with him nonetheless, especially considering that the Ravens seemed to like the young Lord.

They were a peculiar folk, skin a milky white and eyes bigger than normal, and they spoke in a melodic language that Dean didn’t even try to decipher. Many of the younger ones spoke a broken version of Cas’ language, thankfully enough, and Dean only now realised how fucking lucky he was that he had landed somewhere where people actually spoke fucking English. They even used the same alphabet and numeric system. The Ravens not so much, but at least they could understand one another.

Madam Eve spoke with a raspy voice, as if from years of smoking, but her accent was the best so far and Dean felt a sense of peace as soon as he sat down at her table. This was it, he thought, if she couldn’t help him he was probably stuck here and the decision would have been made for him.

Well, maybe he would be able to figure something out. He had after all been up at the rocks a couple of times this last month in the hopes of figuring something out, maybe he just had to try harder.

Madam Eve startled him out of his thoughts when she put the pie gingerly to the side and then grasped Dean’s hand again, a big smile on her face.

“You do not belong here,” she stated, still smiling. “And you wish to leave.”

“Yeah,” Dean mumbled, glancing at Cas who nodded encouragingly. “I kinda touched those Hornet Rocks and got sent here, maybe?”

Madam Eve didn’t seem fazed in the least by this. She just pulled away, smacking her lips, and someone behind Dean immediately walked over with a plate and started cutting up the pumpkin pie.

“Those Hornet Rocks,” Madam Eve mumbled, shaking her head. “Always causing trouble. They work their magic every full moon, luring people in.”

“Are you saying people could be stumbling through dimensions every month?” Dean asked, baffled and not only because of these news because he had kind of been anticipating something like this. But damn, how wasn’t this place crowded yet?

“No,” Madam Eve smiled a secret smile and looked Dean straight in the eyes even though he was certain she couldn’t actually see him. Maybe she could see his soul, though, with those white eyes of hers. “Only those with a touch of destiny to them.”

“Touch of destiny,” Dean snorted just as Madam Eve was served a piece of his pie. It looked delicious by the way, just saying. “That’s the second _Pirates_ reference, come on.”

Madam Eve laughed as if she actually got the joke and maybe she did, maybe she actually _could_ see even with her eyes like that. Could see right through Dean and into his world. The thought was more comforting than he had thought it would be.

“In any case,” she smiled and cut off a piece of the pie without even looking away from Dean. “If you wish to return you’ll have to go up there in the moonlight and listen for the humming to start. Touch the humming stone and you should be sent right to where you belong.”

“You sure about that?” Dean asked nervously, shifting as the old woman hummed in appreciation of the pie. “What if I end up somewhere completely new?”

“It’s a chance you’ll have to take,” she cocked her head to the side, regarding him. “But I don’t think you need to be worried. Lore says that the one who touches the stone, and everything and everyone he touches at the time, will be sent exactly where he is needed the most,” her dead eyes slipped over to look at Cas, making the man shift restlessly beside Dean. “And when the need has been sated he would be free to return home.”

“And what if it’s not?” Cas mumbled, voice low but carrying resonance enough to make Dean shiver.

Madam Eve smiled extremely knowingly and Dean saw two of the slender Ravens nudge each other in the ribs and mumble something in their language, smiling.

“I think the magic will still let him go,” Madam Eve stated reassuringly and then reached to pat Dean’s hand. “You and anything and anyone you touch.”

Dean’s eyes snapped up to hers. “Yeah?”

“Just make sure _you_ are the one touching the humming rock.”

Or they could end up somewhere completely different, Dean understood perfectly what she meant.

“If it has to be during the full moon, how much time does that leave me?”

“First night of the cycle was last night,” the man who had served Madam Eve pie stated, his accent harder to understand but clear enough. “You have three nights left.”

“For best effect you should do it tonight or tomorrow, at the moon’s peak,” Madam Eve added and Dean nodded, having pretty much expected that.

Well, he had expected a lot of this but it was good to get it confirmed by the old woman, especially the part about taking someone with him. Because fuck, what if Dean and Cas had made all these grand plans only to be thwarted by the magic itself? That would have sucked balls, good to know the magic here wasn’t a total douche.

They left not much later, Madam Eve praising Dean’s pie so much he actually started blushing, which for some fucking reason interested the Ravens so much that Cas ended up hauling Dean away in an apparent jealous fit. Dean fucking loved it, and even more so when he saw Madam Eve’s smirk.

“Dean,” Cas’ hand sought out Dean’s as they walked through the lively streets of town. People were out and about, the festival livening up the town with bright colors and happy music. “Please let me come with you.”

Damn, Dean nearly tripped, so caught off guard by Cas’ bluntness.

“R-really?”

Cas looked seriously at him, eyes intense and jaw set. “Yes. I have listened to you talk about your world, I have tried to imagine my life without you, and now I finally got to hear what I had hoped to hear from Madam Eve. I have all the information I need; I still want to go, please reconsider.”

Dean wasn’t fucking prepared, okay? He had hoped Cas would bring this up again, scared that he wouldn’t, knowing Dean himself would never ask such a thing of the other man. But now, as his time here was dwindling to an end, he had hoped they would be having this exact conversation again but it was too sudden.

They were out in the open, people all around them, and yet all Dean wanted to do was kiss Cas. Wanted to scream yes at the top of his lungs. Still, he couldn’t be too hasty, he owed it to be straight with Cas.

He stopped walking and turned to Cas, taking the man’s other hand in his too. “You do know that there’s a possibility that you can’t come back, right? Maybe… I mean, it’s probably safe to say I could do back and forth so maybe I could come here and visit? Like, once a month wouldn’t be so bad…”

“It would be atrocious,” Cas snapped, eyes fierce. “Dean, if you don’t want to be with me at all anymore then this is a grand opportunity for you to say so. I understand why you told me no the first time I asked but I have taken everything you have told me and reconsidered my query and I still want to go with you,” Cas’ voice wavered as his desperation shone through. “ _Please_ honor me by giving me a proper answer rather than just stealing away in the night.”

Dean stepped in, now oblivious of the people around them as he cupped Cas’ jaw, shushing him lightly. “I wouldn’t do that, I promise.”

“I-I don’t know what to do with myself, Dean.”

Dean grinned, suddenly filled with such relief that he felt like king of the fucking world. “I do. We’re gonna go in and have an awesome feast with your family, then we’re gonna go up to your room and have drunk sex. Tomorrow we’ll talk with you dad and brother, tell them about your decision to leave with me and then we’re gonna pack, say our goodbyes to everyone we’ll miss, and go out to the Hornet Rocks,” his grin widened as he saw the realization dawning on Cas. “And we’ll have ourselves a picnic there and wait for nightfall and the moonlight, and then I’m taking you on a trip. How’s that sound?”

Cas let out a sound almost like a sob and he closed the distance between them, putting his forehead against Dean’s shoulder, nodding.

“I-I…”

“Yeah,” Dean mumbled tenderly, hugging Cas close. “Yeah, I think that sounds fucking perfect, too.”

 

*********

 

The harvest festival was a fucking blast, especially considering how elated Dean felt now. He and Cas had really talked it through and yeah, they were going to make this work, he just knew it and it felt great.

“We should test the stones,” Dean had mumbled late in the evening, as they were drunkenly making out in Cas’ bed. “If you get tired of me, I want you to be able to return to your home.”

“Don’t talk like that,” Cas had countered, fingers slipping in the oil as he plunged them into Dean’s hole. “I don’t ever want to leave you.”

“If we knew they worked like I think they do,” Dean had cut himself off with a moan, momentarily forgetting his train of thought as Cas took pleasure in playing with his prostate. “We could come visit your family. Sammy would fucking love it here.”

“Now that’s an idea I like,” Cas had rumbled, biting lightly at Dean’s collarbone. “That I want.”

“I want _you_.”

Cas had fucked him so good Dean’s legs were still like jell-O even the day after.

 

 

The weather as they hiked over the to the Hornet Rocks was beautiful. The air was chilly and the trees were changing colors, but the sun was high in the sky and shining down on them, warming them.

Lord Star had insisted that they take Bojack and Dauntless but Dean had declined, saying there were places they might need to go where horses wouldn’t be able to follow. It was really hard to tell if Dean’s most tearfilled goodbye had been with Bojack or Captain Rutherford. Both had grown quite a lot on him over the last month, though Bojack was decidedly more receptive of Dean’s hugs.

“I will miss you,” the captain had admitted in a low tone, though, and Dean had only grinned.

Honestly he was too wrung out after having accompanied Cas on his many, _many_ goodbyes. He had always known Cas had more people liking him than the man himself believed but seeing it was another matter. Cas had seemed overwhelmed too and damnit, seeing his eyes fill with unshed tears had almost made Dean start bawling.

But that wouldn’t do, of course, because as far as Cas’ family knew the young son would only be travelling the world. They expected him to be able to return some day and neither Dean nor Cas had wanted to destroy that hope, especially since they wanted to believe that too.

“Take care of my brother,” Jonah had said in a serious tone while Cas had been busy being hugged to death by his dad and a crying Sequoia. “He deserves only good things.”

“I know,” Dean had felt such an immense sense of belonging as he watched Cas gently comfort his family. Asking them to please tell his cousin about him leaving in his stead. Cas was giving up so much and yet he was so happy, his whole face smiling. “I promise I’ll do my best.”

And he fucking would, goddamnit if there ever was a time when Dean wanted to commit to something it was here and now.

The picnic they had brought was the perfect meal to have in the sun under a big tree just next to the Hornet Rocks. Looking at them like this, in the middle of a peaceful day, they looked like completely ordinary stones, perhaps aside from their strange formation. Who knew they held such power? Someone should put up a fucking warning…

“Holy crap!” Dean bolted upright from where he had been lying on his back with his head in Cas’ lap.

Cas startled, apparently having dozed off for a moment. “What’s wrong?”

“The ghost,” Dean couldn’t believe how stupid he had been. “The fucking ghost was warning me,” he laughed, starting out as a little chuckle but it grew when he saw Cas’ confused face.

“Mad Mary?”

“No,” Dean shook his head, still laughing. “Just before I got spirited here I had salted and burned a ghost that was chasing some people who had disturbed its grave. It was shouting at me to get away and I thought it didn’t want to be burned.”

Cas’ eyes grew. “It was warning you to get away from the stones.”

“Yeah,” Dean grinned, shaking his head. “Man, I was so _stupid_.”

Cas smiled too, leaning in and curling his fingers against Dean’s jaw, pulling him in. “I’m glad you were.”

“You know, you’re only getting away with saying stuff like that because you’re good in bed.”

“Yes, Dean.”

They ended up exchanging blowjobs, and though it was Cas’ first time Dean came harder than he ever had from a simple BJ before. Dean concluded that they were in the honeymoon phase and Cas countered with the fact that they weren’t even married yet. Dean made a mental note to buy Cas both a dictionary of idioms and a ring as soon as he was able.

 

 

With nightfall came nervous jitters and with moonlight came the humming.

“Ready?” Dean mumbled, Cas’ hand in his as they approached the stone.

“As ready as I’ll ever be, I suppose.”

Absentmindedly Dean wondered if it was the same stone as last time, and if it mattered.

“The shock will probably hurt like a bitch but don’t let go of my hand.”

Cas squeezed his hand in answer and Dean gave him a reassuring smile over his shoulder before walking them right up to the stone. As an act of defiance he didn’t even hesitate when he reached for it.

Everything happened exactly like last time. The humming intensified as soon as he made skin-to-rock contact and he could feel the vibrations through the palm of his hand. There was a slight pause and then the jolt came rushing up his arm. The last thing he was aware of before the blackness engulfed him was Cas’ pained scream.

 

 

The first thing Dean did when he woke up was squeeze Cas’ hand in his, firstly to reassure himself that their hands still were clasped, and secondly to wake the other man up. There was a brief silence in which Dean got the wild thought that maybe Cas had been torn in half and only his hand had ended up being transported with Dean.

Then he heard the man groan sluggishly and relief washed over him. Okay, they were both together and both alive. Good start. He dug his phone out of his pocket as he sat up, taking some time to make sure Cas actually was okay as he waited for the phone to boot up.

“Was that supposed to happen?” Cas mumbled as he struggled to sit up too, shaking his head as if to clear it.

“Yeah,” Dean couldn’t help but smile, tentatively positive to this whole thing so far. “It’s exactly as last time.”

“How will you know if you’re home? The woods look the same to me.”

“Simple, I’ll just—fucking _yes_!” he turned to Cas, triumphantly showing him his phone screen. “Look, I have _bars_.”

Cas looked torn between fascination and fright. “What’s wrong with your phone?”

“Nothing,” Dean laughed elatedly, getting to his feet and pulling Cas up with him. He kissed him quickly as soon as they were both upright. “It’s working exactly as it should. I even have some battery left, I’ll call Sammy immediately and—” he cut himself off when he caught Cas staring as if entranced down at the phone. “Hey,” he lowered his voice and stepped closer, ducking his head to catch Cas’ eyes. “Are you gonna be okay? I know this is gonna be _a lot_.”

Cas looked up, his eyes shining in the light from the phone screen. He blinked once, almost owlishly, and then broke out in a big grin. “Oh yes,” he exclaimed, smiling so widely that his nose scrunched up all adorable like. “This is so _exciting_.”

Dean huffed out a chuckled. Yeah, Cas was definitely alright. “Okay, just hang on while I call my little brother. I think we can start walking in, uh,” he spun around. “ _That_ direction, I think… I left a bag and my car so hopefully they haven’t been stolen or destroyed. Maybe Sam was even here and picked them up, let’s see.”

As soon as they started walking Dean called the phone Sam had been using last that Dean knew and he almost started weeping when he heard the dial tone. Cas snuck his hand in Dean’s and fucking hell, Dean had never felt so happy before.

 

 

The reunion with Sam was a tear-filled one, first because Dean punched him on the shoulder for obviously having hijacked Baby considering Dean had had the keys with him. And then normal tear-filled because fucking hell Sam had obviously thought Dean was dead or worse and Dean had feared he would never see his giant of a brother ever again.

“I stayed in town, I have been looking for you this whole time.”

Okay, so turned out that time flowed exactly the same, which was a relief considering Dean and Cas would want to try and return for a visit sometime, maybe as soon as the next full moon.

“Yeah, turns out you couldn’t have found me no matter how much you looked,” Dean grinned, accepting a new hug when the enormity of the situation caught up with Sam all over again. “But we’re here now.”

“Yeah,” Sam pulled out to turn to look at Cas, who was still busy gawking at Baby, even though she was turned off and quiet now. “Who’s ‘we’?”

“This is Cas,” Dean’s grin widened when the man whipped around to face them. “The incredibly handsome and intelligent boyfriend I picked up in that other dimension world.”

“Really?” Sam almost squeaked but Dean couldn’t tear his eyes away from the loving gaze Cas was giving him.

“Really,” he stated and beckoned Cas closer, taking his hand when the man came to stand beside him. “Without him, this whole thing would have been fucking awful.”

“I, uh, I’m just surprised to hear you talk about _anyone_ like that,” Sam suddenly smiled and offered up his hand in greeting, which Cas shook enthusiastically. “But hey, I’m happy for you. Cool of you to come with Dean, I’m sure that must have been a great sacrifice. Are you going to stay with us for now?”

“For always,” Cas corrected with a wide grin.

Sam laughed at the unexpected boldness. “That’s really a commitment, you sure you’re up for it?”

“For being a hunter and living on the road, you mean?”

“I meant for putting up with Dean’s grumpy ass,” Sam smirked when Dean balked at his words. “He can be quite a handful, you know.”

“Yes, thank you Sammy. So fucking nice to be home where everyone knows my name and all that shit, _thank you_ , Cas doesn’t wanna hear anymore from you.”

“You’re quite mistaken, Dean,” Cas countered, eyes glinting in the moonlight. “I’m sure I would be delighted to hear everything your little brother has to say about you.”

“Oh I like this one,” Sammy laughed loudly and since Dean could do nothing but agree he let it slide for now.

“Whatever, bitch,” he started walking to the car, dragging Cas with him. “Just so you know you’re banished to the backseat for that. Cas deserves front row for his first ride in a car anyway.”

“First ride, huh?” Sam asked, clearly too happy to have Dean back to even care about the jab. “What kind of world did you live in anyway?”

“Picture medieval Europe,” Dean said as he opened the passenger door for Cas. Cas looked excited enough to bounce into space any second and he hurried into the car, touching everything he could reach.

“Okay?”

“You seeing it clearly?”

“Yeah.”

Dean shot a finger gun at Sam, winking. “You’re there.”

It took a second for Sammy to blink the surprise out of his eyes and then he started laughing again. “Damn, Cas,” he climbed into the backseat, gently slapping Cas’ shoulder. “You’re really in for a ride.”

“I know,” Cas smiled a pleased smile just as Dean slid into the driver seat, sighing contently. “Dean tells me this goes really fast.”

“No, I meant—”

“Don’t bother, Sammy,” Dean shook his head with a smile, turning to help Cas with his seatbelt. He and Sam rarely wore theirs but there was no fucking way he was taking any chances with Cas.

He caught Cas’ eye as he clicked on the belt, basking in the love he saw there, and then when he straightened he immediately noticed Sam’s sappy grin in the rearview mirror. Frowning, he turned to his brother.

“Don’t.”

“I wasn’t saying anything.”

Dean squinted. “Just tell me where to go.”

“Same motel, I never left. Me and Erin spent the month here researching the rocks and your disappearance.”

“Erin, eh?”

Sam instantly blushed, like a giant sized virgin. “Please don’t be weird.”

“I dunno, Sam,” Dean drawled, turning back to switch on the ignition. “Guess that depends on how weird _you’re_ gonna be.”

Whatever Sam’s reply was got drowned out when Cas made a sound somewhere between delighted and startled as soon as Baby’s engine started rumbling again. Dean looked over at the man, grinning widely. This felt like the beginning of something really great.

“Dean, it’s vibrating, just like the rock,” Cas turned big eyes on him. “What if we get transported again?”

“Oh, we’re gonna get transported alright.”

The sound of Cas’ breathless laughter as they tore through the forest and out on the open road at break-neck speed was like fucking music to Dean’s ears.

Definitely the start of something freaking awesome, for sure.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The End! :D
> 
> I hoped you liked it and had as much fun as I did, thank you for reading! <3333
> 
> Also, if you want to give me money for not reason (wink wonk), please use [this Twitter thread](https://twitter.com/SPNzation/status/1116229601540419586), I love you all!


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